The aural assault begins:
the cornet sounds the charge,
taken up by horn and trombone.
A boy smaller than his bass drum,
and a second on snare and cymbal
thunder out a covering barrage.
Until all are silenced by the baton.
I came across the sevenling form on ‘Scrambled not fried’, for example this one and have been meaning to try it for ages. The specifications are here. Oh, and QJB is Queanbeyan Junior Brass. And they’re much better than this, or any of my other poems about them, may have implied. But they are loud.