Musician Poem by Barry Middleton

never was the mood more pure
in fictive offerings secure
than music

the movement is a maiden's dance
a sequined dress cannot enhance
her grace

the soft lament of saxophones
in lonely melody intones
the wind

behind the band the conga beat
calls for lovers to entreat
a sigh

the audacity of violin
banishes my deep chagrin
like stars

forgotten lyrics that I spurned
smolder in the fire that burned
my scars