The Book

 

This book I made to friends and poets has been a joy to me, It's taken me back to a time when I was young and free.

If I knew then what I know now of the sliding doors of fate but we all know that hindsight always turns up late.

I feel that times escaping, it's running away from me the future fades into the past on that we all agree.

I want to live a long life but never to grow old or fumble around inside my head for stories to be told.

The way an oyster wraps up a small grain of sand and coats it with nacre to produce something grand.

This book I wrapped in leather it had me in a whirl I like to think it's also some type of a pearl..............

Weary Blues

 

If music be the food of love,  I'll have a Bb on toast.

This Brocken violin only played one chord......F demented.......

So I cut the neck off and made it into a ukulele or  Ukulin or a Vioele?

Rhapsadies In Black

 

Jungle nights in Harlem dancing in the streets Duke Ellington band 

playing that syncopated beat.

Across the Harlem rooftops and down in the bars and speaks 

the music all around us the fun is there to seek.

Black renaissance dancers dance to a creole band,  tall, tan, and terrific

those girls from Dixieland.

Harlem was romantic, and strong hard and cold

but the rhythm seeping through you soothes the restless soul...........