The Blues <br /> <br />cob webs on a foggy morn <br />silent songs, melodies reborn <br />artful paintings hung askew <br />sunsets golden memories past due <br /> <br />cold assumptions harmonize <br />in depths of blind closed eyes <br />chords of ivory and ebony amuse <br />while left behind lovers sing the blues <br /> <br />the stars are the audience to the eternal show <br />what maestro orchestrated a broken heart? I don't know <br />the tunes solemn and sorrowful as a dark funeral day <br />tears dropp to the beat while they have their way <br /> <br />intense the orchestra romances the crowd <br />while inwardly the heart cries out loud <br />desires unquenched thirst, for nectar of mornings bliss <br />for only in dreams are found that sought for kiss. <br /> <br />MyrtleThomas<br /><br />Myrtle Thomas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-blues-11/
