The jazz is smoldering tonight
as moonglow sweeps our flesh.
I whisper into tangled hair,
feel your pulse react to wicked words
while Billie sings, soft and low,
the summertime her anthem
and you my winter song.
I shall play you until the spring comes,
when snow and ice take their leave
and the tender buds appear.
I hit the replay button, let Billie sing
forever, if only…
Copyright © 2010 by Christopher Chaffin – All rights reserved