Lone Play of Tempo Jokes

Play over the one and so,
over on by this little frail smile,
over by the jokes and knowing,
plays off in the far ways,
a lone symphony,
keen by piano keys high temp,
a flute soulful view,
bang of the pattern fast center,
the sides fill a short bass,
in brings the cello mourns that lightly,
bring a new emotion of peace to it,
sleepy it goes,
from now a low hum,
wrapping it together,
unlikely they play,
but play they do,
bare fleet of a maracas,
hissing as a snake swimming echoes,
the humming loudly enough,
feet worn of travel stop to rest,
hearing the sooth,
of a soot gleam moon song,
that through it all,
never misses a bit,
tempos changes mid may way key,
cello of so resting,
as the piano and flute,
duel, short of it,
in making peace along the way,
drums come back,
solo the cello to come back and join,
let the play go on,
thousand ways of failing,
come and go,
but the gleam never fades,
just as soon life,
will bring the rain,
silver of a tongue,
forms a grin,
leaving in so,
not alone,
the play goes on,
a keen lay they do,
together as it goes,
finding the pace they makes them work,
slowly as ever,
just as so on a hateful storm,
bass on tempo,
solo to group,
comes on a beat,
not all can do,
but through it all,
they play,
through the night,
resting by day,
mourning only a moment,
before a smile sinks in,
just in the right place.