Musical Love

Hi, here I am with a very short piece of music.
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Musical Love

Soon entering the old Irish lane, I saw a group of street musicians busking in the Latin Quarter. About the Latin Quarter in Galway, I am speaking of. I couldn't imagine their high-pitched voices, the voices of alto, countertenor, having a range above that of tenor, falsetto. From their voices, I couldn't differentiate between a tenor and a soprano.  Though Sopranino pitches are no different but higher in frequency. 

I stopped at a local beer pub, ordered myself a pint, and enjoyed listening to the silence. The busy mutters are dead,  formal mumblings all hushed now, voices mute, the tittle-tattle chattering tones inaudible, crowds in the street motionless. For a long time now, from the Latin Quarter, musicians winning the hearts of everybody within their reach. I composed myself at a window seat in the pub, my seat near the open window to let in their voices, to let nobody's strength restrain the adorable sounds of warmth, the melody of love, and were from the Latin Quarter, adoring adorable Passionate Musical music with instrumental tones now piercing sharp shrill peaky spiky coalescing, and I lean back drinking pint after pint, my eyes closed, I think about how much music I could learn through their voices from the Latin Quarter, those musicians to cherish, endlessly with my everlasting love they endure with their gracefully pleasing pleasurable pieces. 

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Jayeeta...