To the curtains pleads the breeze
May I have a slow dance please
Yes, they whisper and softly billow
While a cherished face adorns my pillow
Twinkling lighted city sprawl
Below it clamors, roils and brawls
High above, my love and I
Are chest to breast, and thigh to thigh
Night-breezed curtains swell and sway
In silken sensuous display
Music fills our private room
Like dark exotic sweet perfume
‘Tis we who strain and burn and yearn
Strive and cleave and roil and churn
In tangled sheets, breathe tender sighs
With fevered touch and half-closed eyes
Saxophone weaves its sultry tones
Bass line walks and chanteuse moans
Brushes on drums and hands on strings
But ’tis I who’s strummed, my heart that sings
-K Wodke