Somerset Blues

Back then she was singing the blues, In a smaller club where the sunset- Splashed the walls in various hues, On a plummy street called Somerset. I was introduced to her backstage, In that far away, long ago place, Before she had become all the rage, With her jet-setter's renowned face. Her voice then was as liquid gold, And eyes reflected the bright lights, And her song a melancholy tale told, Of her dream which had taken flight! All motion in the club would cease, Anytime the blue lady in red sang Her beautiful, musical masterpiece, In a voice which, like bells, rang! Now, in the still of a pastel dawn, My memories wander back to Somerset- Of those happy, sun days quite gone, And the blues song I cannot forget!