The notes of a piano fall like warm rain
on the imaginary city of my nostalgy .
A coffee mug sharing stories
of girls offered to the wind
an old candle flame ,philosophizing
about the good old yesterday ...
Your fingers running on the keyboard
give birth to armfuls of feelings,
as if everything had to stop
in the weet avenues of the melancholic city
of my imaginary ,colored by passing clouds
on a moonlit symphony ...
A bass of nowhere disturbs the piano ,
lady clarinett joins the party !
How's the mood Glenn ?
Last chord on Django's guitar ,its late ...
The candle falls asleep ,good night !
The empty mug leaves a touch of mood
on sunset boulevard ...
weariness in the space and a lift for heaven ...
Where are these impertinent hours ?
A forgotten score in the air of seasons
when we were beautiful,young and carefree...
Who remains summertime ?
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Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 27th, 2024 08:27
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
Offline)
Comments1
I love that gentle melancholy tone in your poem.
Mild mood on the moon ...
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