Fileobrother Posted May 5, 2009 Report Share Posted May 5, 2009 The crowd is silenced as the old conductor takes the stage. He turns around, and takes a bow, quite low for his old age. He turns again to grab his wand, oh how I love this part, Sit down, be quiet, please don't talk, the sonata's about to start. He points to the violins, smooth and rolling, as they paint a picture dark. And now the bass and cello join to give another mark. Pluck! Plinck! Pluck! Plinck! sounds the piano man. CRASH! go the cymbals, it's part of this old man's plan. The tempo quickl y carries as a faster beat it meets. The audience is captivated on the edge of their seats. The old man's arms are blurs of light, the piano man is pounding. The tempest tune is crashing, crackling, roaring, howling, sighing. Then all at once as if on purpose the entire sound starts dying, From roar to gale, from gale to whisper, as if someone was crying. Then, just when you thought it couldn't get any quieter, silence. This sonata simply deserves only the very best in fame, so if you would, please be a dear, and take a guess at it's name. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
0 Guest Posted May 5, 2009 Report Share Posted May 5, 2009 could you be a storm Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
0 Fileobrother Posted May 6, 2009 Author Report Share Posted May 6, 2009 could you be a storm Yep! Good job, this riddle was meant to be more difficult, but after it came out, I was just way too exhausted to care. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
0 Guest Posted May 6, 2009 Report Share Posted May 6, 2009 it was good i liked it. i actually had to come back to it like 4 or 5 times. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
0 Guest Posted May 6, 2009 Report Share Posted May 6, 2009 The crowd is silenced as the old conductor takes the stage. He turns around, and takes a bow, quite low for his old age. He turns again to grab his wand, oh how I love this part, Sit down, be quiet, please don't talk, the sonata's about to start. He points to the violins, smooth and rolling, as they paint a picture dark. And now the bass and cello join to give another mark. Pluck! Plinck! Pluck! Plinck! sounds the piano man. CRASH! go the cymbals, it's part of this old man's plan. The tempo quickl y carries as a faster beat it meets. The audience is captivated on the edge of their seats. The old man's arms are blurs of light, the piano man is pounding. The tempest tune is crashing, crackling, roaring, howling, sighing. Then all at once as if on purpose the entire sound starts dying, From roar to gale, from gale to whisper, as if someone was crying. Then, just when you thought it couldn't get any quieter, silence. This sonata simply deserves only the very best in fame, so if you would, please be a dear, and take a guess at it's name. Not just for a riddle, this is beautifully written poetry. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
0 Guest Posted May 6, 2009 Report Share Posted May 6, 2009 Very true Lotus. Excellently written fileobrother, truly impressive. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
0 Guest Posted May 6, 2009 Report Share Posted May 6, 2009 (edited) Very true Lotus. Excellently written fileobrother, truly impressive. Indeed!! I really felt the CLASH of the symbols and the PLINK, PLUNK, PLINK, PLUNK of the piano keys. I was "in the...." Edited May 6, 2009 by lotus Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
0 Fileobrother Posted May 6, 2009 Author Report Share Posted May 6, 2009 Indeed!! I really felt the CLASH of the symbols and the PLINK, PLUNK, PLINK, PLUNK of the piano keys. I was "in the...." Well, I'm honored that you enjoyed it. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Question
Fileobrother
The crowd is silenced as the old conductor takes the stage.
He turns around, and takes a bow, quite low for his old age.
He turns again to grab his wand, oh how I love this part,
Sit down, be quiet, please don't talk, the sonata's about to start.
He points to the violins, smooth and rolling, as they paint a picture dark.
And now the bass and cello join to give another mark.
Pluck! Plinck! Pluck! Plinck! sounds the piano man.
CRASH! go the cymbals, it's part of this old man's plan.
The tempo quickl
y carries as a faster beat it meets.
The audience is captivated on the edge of their seats.
The old man's arms are blurs of light, the piano man is pounding.
The tempest tune is crashing, crackling, roaring, howling, sighing.
Then all at once as if on purpose the entire sound starts dying,
From roar to gale, from gale to whisper, as if someone was crying.
Then, just when you thought it couldn't get any quieter,
silence.
This sonata simply deserves only the very best in fame,
so if you would, please be a dear, and take a guess at it's name.
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