A Thousand Orchids
A billion stars;
A hundred trumpets playing in the park.
To an old blues song swaying in the dark.
Who has rhythm;
A drum roll takes over the session.
A night in the city.
The music smooth in concession.
New Orleans is hopping tonight,
Put on those light as a feather shoes.
The people are celebrating;
Baby- its not about you but the blues.
Colorful necklaces and bracelets bazaar;
Everyone is taking to the street in song even the kids.
Snapping their fingers to a bass guitar.
Mardi Gras swings and looks like a thousand Orchids.
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Comments about this poem (A Thousand Orchids by Saint Eule )
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