Many a Good Tune
by cricketjeff on April 7, 2011. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
His words once snowed like blossom from the trees
And drifted into sonnets at her feet
She caught the dreams he whispered to the breeze
That huddled them together on the seat
Her kisses once turned rain to vintage wine
From cellars stocked with all the finest years
Her fingertips played Mozart on his spine
And brushed away her lovers foolish fears
Yet now his voice recounts the evening news
His words don’t dance like fairies in her heart
Her kisses don’t ignite a waiting fuse
No fireworks tear the evening skies apart
But well aged logs provide the brightest flames
They still find days and nights to fill with games