- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Speak Love, Ya Dig
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Sounds of seasons and blues and love
That's what jazz means to me, my dear,
A force of loath release thereof.
With a rapid and painless shove
It opens the soul to new fears,
Sounds of seasons and blues and love.
A trumpet sounds and cries above,
The tempo speeds and sharp notes jeer,
A force of loath release thereof.
Saxophones and flutes fly like doves
As the pace picks up and fans cheer,
Sounds of seasons and blues and love.
Dark, ominous sounds of beloved
Fill the halls and heavens austere,
A force of loath release thereof.
And you, my dear, will listen of
Miles and Ella and all those here,
Sounds of seasons and blues and love,
A force of loath release thereof.
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