Slipping through a courtyard path on a whim
Of spontaneity and pizzazz,
An after-dinner treat to delight the soul in delightful soul and jazz
That leaks and curls around town like the smock around her knees
Or smoke they use to sedate the bees.
And now the couple skip further from the melody,
Made sweet by the mouth of the African American soulstress,
And through the ferns into overhanging trees
Where leaves are like fairy-floss fluttering through the gentle breeze
Blowing back the willow branches wrapped in black,
Or like small sails departing from the maple trails.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.