Whisper Low Poem by David Blake

The soft kisses, the voices, the smoky room and the music
of a jazz filled night. Whispering she smiles and the
preemptions of love fills the air. Tasting feature tears I know
I might be unable to tell her goody. All the pretty colors
become one and it is almost as if we were in love. Deep into
the night swaying like the willow we move to and fro, magic
and youth the passion of delight. On and on into the endless
night we move further from the lullaby. Tiring I close my eyes
just for a moment and when I awake she is gone. Crying into
my pillow I know she like the melody is lost forever into the
void of tomorrow.