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Image for the poem Les & Dug... and Mary Ford🎸

Les & Dug... and Mary Ford🎸

( Prompt #16 )
 
There was always the player
of songs in his head, the worm
who had crawled out from
under the dead, of a concert
gone ballistic back in the States.
 
He’d passed out to a riff, a
duet to a banana clip,
in a pool of a Cuervo dream
that screamed in its stupor
as the worm tossed & writhed;
was baptized, down for the count.
 
But then, he slowly came to;
it was dark and he couldn’t tell,
nor who he was, what place
was this, why was it so cold.
He groaned. He felt so old.
 
The world quickly split in two!
Scraping, banging, vertigo
clanking, sliding, whoa hey!
Somebody yy yy yy ow ow ow!
The muffle of a rev’d up motor.
 
Dug was still in the dark, while
he felt on a ‘helter-skelter’ ride,
his insides shaken up, and
couldn’t recall when he last ate!
Till at last he felt he had arrived
Wherever that was; he was alive!
 
He was being rattled about,
as people shouted, banging stuff
everything was getting too rough!
 
And then, Hey Ben, lose my picks?
I can’t remember where they are!

 
“Look in the case with your guitar!”
 
You mean my Les Paul? “Ya, that one!”
 
The sound of latches opening
caused Dug to scamper, wriggling
behind a baffle, trail of ink,
Was dazed by the cacophony.
It was a band he’d hitched a ride
When he’d passed out in the guitar!
 
The worm held on for his dear life
as members of the band ran on
into an auditorium;
Dug heard someone tune up a drum.
 
A lot of scuffled steps were heard.
He hunkered down, the plunks & plinks,
as the guitar was being tuned.
The worm would squint, he couldn’t think.
 
The curtains of the stage would part,
the audience stood up and cheered.
Poor Dug may never hear again,
He hasn’t thumbs to plug his ears!
 
But one thing told him where he was
While hearing the guitarist sing
the lyrics to their songs in French;
They were in Paris for a gig!
 
Then four hours later they left,
took Dug with them in the guitar.
Hopped aboard a private Lear jet,
treated Dug just like a rockstar!
 
And suddenly Dug realized —
I’m a snail? A slug? No, a worm!
It could’ve been hours or days
since after he’d slumped overboard,
while roaming deep into a dream.
He’d swear off of dark rum for life,
For now he was headed for home!
 
And as the sleek aircraft approached
to Heathrow, Dug only could hear
through the fuselage, Mary Ford
singing in 4-part harmony:
 
”Somewhere there's music
How faint the tune
Somewhere there's heaven
How high the moon
There is no moon above
When love is far away too
Till it comes true
That you love me as I love you
Somewhere there's music
How near, how far
Somewhere there's heaven
It's where you are
The darkest night would shine
If you would come to me soon
Until you will, how still my heart
How high the moon”

 
 
 
 
 
Prompt # 16, for the 2019 NaPo Prompt Comp
 
NaPoGloPoWriMo 2019
 
 
Note:
Although it was written by lyricist Nancy Hamilton  
and composer Morgan Lewis for the 1940 musical  
Two For The Show, the definitive version of  
"How High The Moon" was recorded by the  
husband and wife team of Les Paul and Mary Ford.
Written by Heaven_sent_Kathy
Published
Author's Note
29/30
265 unique words (sans the song lyrics)
Preview Image: a Les Paul Gibson
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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