AN OLD SONG

the beat knows not me,
its age hardly known,
the sax blares,
soothing clefs rise to the awaiting air,
such a wave an aire invites,
an old man does his magic,
a fella on the chords,
a strap down to the woods that sway upon his waist run,
fingers along treasured strings,

another sits,
head dancing,
next to a loved gentle black giant,
the two buddies for ages been,
palms upon the beautiful blacks and whites,
left to right and together meet,

upon the dark space in twos bodies follow,
in clarks and plats choreograph,
under lights that flash,
in and out,
up and down,

merry is made,
an old flame ignited,
the mood is mellow,
a kiss won't miss,

such a day be magical,

in such love was classical,

the touch of an old song,
in many a throng,
only a few know.

all but the beauty,
of an old song,

©skillz