The Tin Cup Harpsichord… a silly poem

The tin cup harpsichord

Sounds, tinny, at its best

Not a soul can play it, no

It should be laid to rest

But Rooster Oscar Blatherbeat

Just has to try his hand

He thinks the sound is pretty

So, he placed it in his band

No one has the heart to say

“You fool!  You’re so tone deaf!”

As they let him play

Everyday

C, F and G bass clef

Author: What Words May Come

Hopeless romantic; joker; father and grandfather; husband; sportsman; part-time writer;

20 thoughts on “The Tin Cup Harpsichord… a silly poem”

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