One for Zondrae - DON'T NUKE THE UKE
Posted: Mon Sep 17, 2012 9:20 am
Good luck Zondra at your Uke festival - disregard the nay-sayers and just have fun
DON’T NUKE THE UKE
Well she played the Ukulele and she yodelled as she sang
and across the fields and valleys green the mournful echoes rang
The timbre of her voice made every love song poignant, sweet
and her nimble fingers on the strings they never missed a beat
And she yodelled Ukulele ,Ukulele ,Uka Oh,
Ukulele, Uka Uka Uka Oh.
She had music in her fingers she had music in her soul
and to play the Ukulele was this poetess’s goal.
For years she practised diligently, joined with all the best
and the time had come for two hundred to put it to the test.
And she yodelled Ukulele ,Ukulele ,Uka Oh,
Ukulele, Uka Uka Uka Oh.
There were some who cast aspersions on this fiddle playing throng.
Ones who had neither the ear to hear the beauty in their song.
Some claimed a scalded cat would sound much better as we speak
and yet the Uke has its own charm – played right it does not shriek.
And she yodelled Ukulele ,Ukulele ,Uka Oh,
Ukulele, Uka Uka Uka Oh.
So when you hear those four gut strings playing sweet harmony
and listen to the music from this tiny jumping flea
that conjures from the memory visions of foreign lands
and hula dancers swaying ‘neath palm trees on ocean sands.
Close your eyes, go with the melody, and let your heart rejoice
that our Zondrae writes great poetry. But can you hear her voice
as she yodelled Ukulele ,Ukulele ,Uka Oh,
Ukulele, Uka Uka Uka Oh.
Maureen Clifford © 09/12
DON’T NUKE THE UKE
Well she played the Ukulele and she yodelled as she sang
and across the fields and valleys green the mournful echoes rang
The timbre of her voice made every love song poignant, sweet
and her nimble fingers on the strings they never missed a beat
And she yodelled Ukulele ,Ukulele ,Uka Oh,
Ukulele, Uka Uka Uka Oh.
She had music in her fingers she had music in her soul
and to play the Ukulele was this poetess’s goal.
For years she practised diligently, joined with all the best
and the time had come for two hundred to put it to the test.
And she yodelled Ukulele ,Ukulele ,Uka Oh,
Ukulele, Uka Uka Uka Oh.
There were some who cast aspersions on this fiddle playing throng.
Ones who had neither the ear to hear the beauty in their song.
Some claimed a scalded cat would sound much better as we speak
and yet the Uke has its own charm – played right it does not shriek.
And she yodelled Ukulele ,Ukulele ,Uka Oh,
Ukulele, Uka Uka Uka Oh.
So when you hear those four gut strings playing sweet harmony
and listen to the music from this tiny jumping flea
that conjures from the memory visions of foreign lands
and hula dancers swaying ‘neath palm trees on ocean sands.
Close your eyes, go with the melody, and let your heart rejoice
that our Zondrae writes great poetry. But can you hear her voice
as she yodelled Ukulele ,Ukulele ,Uka Oh,
Ukulele, Uka Uka Uka Oh.
Maureen Clifford © 09/12