Baby… my love for thee…

baby… my love for thee

is a story of the day,

I store my night away,

in a tight cocoon, with barricades,

within which, I play my spades,


baby… my love for thee

is the light of the sun,

shoot me with your love gun,

riding, through the dreams,

taste of freshly whipped cream,


baby… my love for thee

is the dance with the blues,

the sax(on) glittering hues,

a slight convulse of the waist,

music in my numb ears, I taste,


oh baby… my love for thee,

can’t speak… I am so full of glee,


baby… baby… baby…


I am an old soul but the night is young,

sweet-bitter saliva at tongue,

metallic… I see you in darkness,

don’t you go make me digress,


oh babe-ey … it is the woody voice of bass,

this harmony, we cannot pass,

oh babe-ey… the drums beat soothing,

let us join hands and go brooding,


baby… my love for thee

is the string of guitar,

the effervescent music of sitar,

oh babe-ey… piano beckons us,

we talk in language of Damascus,


baby… my love for thee,

poisoned wine dripping from flute,

it may make me go mute,

oh babe-ey… but I will live for you,

and for my love for blues,


baby… my love for thee,

can’t speak, I am so full of glee

* I like jazz. This poem is written in consideration of dVerse Meeting the Bar. I don’t know whether I have done justice with it or not but I wrote it, just as it came to me.


22 thoughts on “Baby… my love for thee…

  1. the woody voice of bass….very cool… and def. the taste of metal and wood from the reed on the tongue…hmmmm… as a saxophone player, one of my fav tastes…smiles


  2. I see you had the same idea as me, trying to recapture the classic jazz songs feeling. And I love your juxtaposition with those ‘real’ songs. Although I could imagine myself humming along to your words.


  3. aprille says:

    These words would go so well with the Amy Winehouse tune. I superimposed them on her boice in my head. You have such a feel for this.


  4. You captured the song – and the feel – with your seeming effortless use of meter and rhyme, choice of words put us in that bluesy frame and we could really “become a part of ” both the music and the meaning. Wonderful.


  5. As a jazz baby of many years, I loved the Mose at the top… but your poem really hit me in that place where the smoky clubs still dwell within. You have the feel, and your paean to the different instruments, along with the wordplay, well, I melted… Thanks for this! Amy


  6. Yeah, this improv stuff really calls you out to play. I love what you did with your poem- sort of a private blues-ey slow dance in a dark lounge. The music you chose is apropos.


  7. As I read your poem, I found a tune – of sorts – forming in my head, although the 5 kine verses forced it to become a bit irregular – kind of like jazz, so I think you’ve more than done justice to the prompt.


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