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How We Blended

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How We Blended

In the hazy heat of smell and sound
Dreams of our love-scenes profound
Find expression as the music flows.
The glory of our union posed
In permanent form thru harmony ---
The memories stay alive in me
Listening to fingers hit a million keys
Remembering how we blended,
The urge still haunting me.

Once the seed has bloomed
In the curves of mellow tunes
Taking galactic form
To feed the need of union
Thru the beauty of those sounds:
The essence of our union
Still alive to enrich my home.




With Memories of Haunting Tunes

Cards dropped in a box,
Spread out like blood vessels
Soaring thru the system,
An attempt to reach you.

A floating symbol landing
On your desk to remind you:
The imprint of cosmic music
Flowing thru the horn,
The language of love's passions
Harmoniously pure, sparkling
With expression: the connection
Will never disintegrate,
It flourishes in a million tunes.

And listening in a quiet room
Multiple images of you roam
In the flow of joyous expressions
In a language all it's own

And I am horny, and alone
Lost in grazy daydreams
While the actual non-existent
Save for a coffee under full sun
While memories haunt certain tunes.




A Way to Remember

Thru frosted windows
Winds loaded with snow
The love of long ago
Plays in reflection:
In tunes energy glows
And the beauty in our union
Thru the music flows.

But the honesty in contact
I'm not allowed to know
For you remain at a distance:
Your choice that I remain in isolation,
A spot in the chart of experience
But nothing of significance.

Yet you haunt me with harmonies
Sneaking thru every tune;
The blending of elements
Like flying to the moon ---
A way to remember
The glory in loving you.




A Walking Dream

The heat-waves of passion
Still active in circling song
As sax exudes flowing energy ---
Nights wishing you were home
Yet all gone save the poems
Mixed with rich beauty
As a thousand tunes play on.

A promise made so long ago
Still coursing thru mellow song,
The language of emotions
Yearning for re-union
Driving love home.

But the time-gap now so vast
Tis only a walking dream,
Nothing more than melodies
Aching to be seen.


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