It had been an effort - <br />the getting there. <br />A long way too <br />and the weather was foul. <br /> <br />As for the parking? <br />Superlatively expensive - <br />like the glass of Shiraz <br />(gulped hastily to beat the bell) . <br /> <br />But when the house lights dimmed <br />and the band lifted their instruments, <br />and brass and woodwinds <br />burst forth with bright voices, <br />my heart danced. <br /> <br />'Chasing Sheep is Best Left to Shepherds' <br />(I know every bar) <br />had accompanied my Alice and her White Rabbit <br />on their looking glass journey <br />ten years ago. <br /> <br />'An Eye for Optical Theory' <br />was there in the flesh, <br />rhythm upon rhythm <br />punching the air. <br />Frenetic, <br />compulsive, <br />effervescent. <br /> <br />The master himself <br />spoke not a word, <br />but sat black-coated, <br />driving his piano - <br />like Schumacher behind the wheel. <br /> <br />When the night was over, <br />I floated home <br />clutching my new CD <br />with its autograph in black texta.<br /><br />Alison Cassidy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-night-with-nyman/
