Crone recalls the schoolhouse dance
He plays an old record
the mellow tones of the saxaphone
a piano, a base, a drum or two
and the big band songs that they made their own
as they danced until dawn
and kissed at the gate
as her landlady checked
when she came in late
Posted in art
The colour and movement has taken me right back to the Mechanics Hall and New Year’s Eve balls when I danced with my father.
By: Heather Blakey on December 28, 2007
at 1:40 am
My mum had a land lady when she was studying and mum had to sneak Dad in and out of her room… back in the days when no men were allowed inside. Lovely poem. So evocative and romantic.
By: Chefleur on December 30, 2007
at 11:41 am
Beautiful poem, Fran. Evocative - and it stops just where it should stop (a skill that’s hard to learn).
By: andrew burke on February 18, 2008
at 8:11 am
Authenticated by le Enchanteur
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