Violin, cello – Whichever really manages to make justifiably audacious sense
Again, impending – So it seems to be
So soon as when – She touched her very own soothingly set heartstrings
Harder than that, in fact – And a whole-wide-amount of eyes, both suitably succinct minds, prise themselves shut-wide
Opening again… …
A bodacious audience, pl=ease – Manages to make it feel like the simplest, most soothing session alive inside
Of their scrupulous minds over nothing really rathered at bothering itself to matter so much anymore
So soon as when we do get to eventually know it
Of its living, seething, string-quartet sensation
Set in boardwalk bones
As opposed to stone
This one next time
Which incessantly both behemothly breathes = As though a wooden-stringed Machiavellian story
Brought back to rapturous-round-of-paused-applause. .. …
Way up in the air
Somewhere so soon as when
Her eagle-eared notoriety sensuously sees
Something downright otherworldly acoustic and fair ‘beatback’ adhering
To these many minds put to the singing-string
And set-to-soar
Like clockwork crazy
And, all awhile, these bird-wired, high-flying artist’s vivaciously attempted avec internationally inclined taste
To send
 
Them back home again
And happier than never (felt) before
From Paris to Pittodrie – and all of it built on sound, sound foundations