Jazz Poem by Dorothy (Alves) Holmes

Jazz

Rating: 5.0


She calls him jazz
Because he is the music
Her heart hears...
Like the slow rippling
Of a trombone,
Deep and mellow.
Sometimes, gentle like Duke's piano,
When he plays 'Mood Indigo', lingering
Forever.
Jazz is what she hears when he whispers
Her name, sweet and low,
Like a lonesome saxophone's
High notes, wrapping around her
Like his arms.
There was never a sound as mellow
As the soft echo of his breath
In her ears...
Jazz she calls him,
Because, jazz he is.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Jerry Hughes 08 February 2007

...and someone was heard to say, 'dis mus be da plaze' - cute write

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