PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Stumble step into the street

Shaking the darkness like a second skin

And perhaps 

My only

Time beaten brass in hand

With a thousand stories i never heard

Dripping from it's golden toungue

Like fire and promise

Turning into where i work

An old champion of the ring

Reliable and purple bruised

The oldest establishment in the city

Of it's kind

Busier than me and always broke

The lovliest pub you ever would see

The kind of place that fills your bones

With a warmth and a soft glow

Like a firefly

I swiped a beer from the bar then staggered 

On stage with my lonely sax

When i turned around there she was

With hair of the times

And a face like the sky

And an ageless smile

So sweet and sad

All she did is nod

And i noded back

Then gently and carefully

Played her song

It sounded like a cry

And felt warm

Like a belly full of

Soup and christmas lights

In the eyes and the end of a sky

Where the darkness meets the trees

Without her slipping in every night

Her and her lips and smile

This strange song i play for her everynight

This would only be a bit of work

With some music

And some soul and some beer

But she

She gives it a heart