Writing is albums of the heart,
we sigh – try to fly to birth this life
to share perhaps, our dreams.
Places find you in your wonder,
the air is ripe, plucking ears
like a blues harp in a smoky joint
singing in a many flowered voice.
waking the artist between refrains,
warm this strummin’ heart and sing
the sun and moon into our world
Her fiddle bowed
parts untamed sounds
and shapes the voice of air
quiet arrays, supporting chords
backups smile the music sweetly.
thumping, drumming, pounding sounds
pump our blood outright
bouncing counterpoint beats in style
lyrics find flirting hearts,
Spirits dancing air
prancing under sweet
cool lacquered strokes
from a breathless alto angel.
