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Click hereThe man in the moon
plays tenor.
Light beams.
Cool blues flowers
fall into ballads.
One gardenia lands
behind a Lady's ear,
whispers languid rhythms,
drags drifts of Stardust
behind the beat.
Fine and mellow,
that yellow light,
closes eyes.
Jazz blooms at night,
thick and luscious,
sulty scented lily tone.
Moon escapes its empty home,
slides down vines, beats,
snakes in golden boughs.
Moon moans.
Wish on jazz.
She loves me,
she loves me not.
She dances,
she dances bop,
uncurls, spoons
into later bliss.
O kiss the night,
jazz moon.
Soft tenor.
Petal kiss.
This poem was selected from Lit's archive of over 39,000 poems for inclusion in today's Archival Review.<br>
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Met and traded discant and harmony by moonlight. Blues is better late at night when your mind is sleeping and your soul is wide awake.
This is beautiful. It reminded me a bit of October Gave A Party, my fav since I was 8. But you know me- a lover of form. For my taste this was a bit awkward flow wise. But thats just me babe! Odd man out!
Love you,
Boo
I feel like I'm in a 'Naw'lins'cafe. The gardenia and the moon are perfect together.
with Glenn MIller's Moonlight Serenade in the background. Yummy Ang. Thank you.
* thermometer too busy swaying to the music to respond