Musician
B
Barry Middleton
0
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never was the mood more pure
in fictive offerings secure
than music
the movement is a maiden's dance
a sequined dress cannot enhance
her grace
the soft lament of saxophones
in lonely melody intones
the wind
behind the band the conga beat
calls for lovers to entreat
a sigh
the audacity of violin
banishes my deep chagrin
like stars
forgotten lyrics that I spurned
smolder in the fire that burned
my scars
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