Musing at the performance of
pianist and singer
we reminisce over yesteryear
while epitomising a cocktail
evening at Hemingway Bar
in Havana, with light jazzy
South American music,
floating effortlessly to my ears.
He sits poised with banana fingers
hovering the ivory keyboards
dropping his skinny soft bunch
onto a silky Yamaha piano
pushing panache beyond boundaries.
The vocalist came by choice
who wore the voice, astounding
all around her, songs of melody
to a heavy encore, as the evening
comes to a close and sipping
on my mellowed brandy burning
my seasoned throat, a change
to my usual concoction.
A superb performing repertoire
enhanced with aura intact and
a fulfilled evening of superfluous
stage presence and star quality
at the Piano Bar of a venue,
we enjoyed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem