I Can Sit Here In Your Company All Night Long Poem by Gert Strydom

It's the kind of music that I hate,
but done to utter perfection
in synergy of blues in twelve,
Dixieland and Jazz
and it's already quite late

and trumpets and a clarinet
intermingles
with the piano and a tenor at counterpoint
as to me a mad mixture of sound,
in a strange, almost awkward melody

and somehow tonight the music goes deep,
passes the abrasion and irritation
that it usually awakes
and I see the piano player
enjoying the tune

and over a bottle of light red wine
you kiss me in the romantic candle light
and I can sit here in your company
all night long, listening to song after song.