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.