Music In the Rain
I walked by the old cafe on Rue De Sienne and heard an angel playing harp
a cherub an ethereal mome bewitching me and playing softly with my heart
she wore a halo made of gold, a soul that laddered up beyond the tarp
and as the fluent clouds rain-teared upon her alabaster tunic.... Art !
Each star a studded light inside her angel eyes of blue. Each note
commemorating, unfastening, abducting, a copious symphony of one
The buckling breeze became her muse I, a kite released in far remote
a Mystic with no malice in sight stringing up the moon and jealous sun.
June 20, 2018
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