THE ETERNAL CONCERTO OF ARCHABOILUS MUSICUS
Inanimate insect in amber immured,
Rigidified resin, vermillion contours,
Within which a cricket’s frail figure perdures—
A cricket that sings no more.
Once lively and free in the Jurassic clime,
But destined for stony seclusion from time,
Enshrouded in sap from a long-extinct pine,
Lies a cricket that sings no more.
Once susurrus tones emanated divine
From tegmina sounded with sclerotized spines,
An unsurpassed lyre of Nature’s design,
For a cricket that sings no more.
As sylvan Jurassic waxed slowly Cretaceous,
So dwindled the stridulation once vivacious,
Forsaking a vestige of balsam pinaceous
With a cricket that sings no more.
The wing of the cricket for eons lay silent,
‘Til Art rediscovered that fiddle inviolate,
A template for clamor primæval and strident
From a cricket that sings no more.
The artisan’s handiwork gave a creation,
Which voiced an exacting aural imitation
Of bush-cricket’s song kept in fossil notation,
So the cricket could sing once more.
Theodore “Ted” Broda is a denizen of Charleston, SC and a senior at the College of Charleston, where he studies chemistry and biochemistry. Although not previously published in a literature journal, he occasionally dabbles in the composition of traditional pastoral poetry, short fiction, and satire. Enchanted by the rich subtleties of the English language, he is an avid etymologist and enjoys the works of Shakespeare, Johnathan Swift, and other wordsmiths with a penchant for coining their own mot juste. When not occupied with writing or enraptured in a good (often non-fiction) book, he enjoys preparing vegetarian Asian fusion cuisine, practicing calligraphy, and mixing volatile chemicals in the lab.