"Jazz Man"

I have read several of Patricias poems. This is the first one of her poems I am posting.  I told Patricia that I thought it might make a great song.  - poetheart 02/09/02

The dark room starts empty
The fan spins on the ceiling
The jazz man enters
opens his case
while kneeling

The clamor of bar glasses
Then test one, test two
Spectators stroll in
To dance and drink brew

Warming with a riff
Known to only a few
Strummers convene
With the play list they'll do

Busy and smoky
With temperatures up
A sip of some drink
From a clear plastic cup

Time for the downbeat
No one sees the band
Till sax man wails
And the sitters now stand

The melody --haunting
The music-- profound
The swell in his chest
Makes his heart pound

The rhythm is moving
His feet to the beat
Each phrase echoes out
From the club to the street

The jazz is now slow
The creator is swaying
His solo-- dead on
The music he's playing

The lights fade to black
The equipment is packed
With eardrums still ringing
And drunkards still singing…

He packs up his tenor
It's time to go home
The streets are so quiet
He drives home alone.

Oh jazz man
It has been
So nice…
So fine…

I still hear each note
I still hum that line.

I still hear each phrase,
I remember each part
Every note that you played
Has touched my heart.

Tomorrow you'll practice
And start a new show
You've made a great impression
But you'll never know.

Oh jazz man
It has been
So nice…
So fine…

To keep your melody
Right here--part of me
Your music,
Sweet music
Is mine.

by Patricia Lynn

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