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9/mars/t/04/951
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bag of goodies,...-goody bag! it happened at midnight
all time stop and froze
in the cafe in paris
the rain softly glowed
it splashed just like lightening
on the balcony and rail
the fire persisted
the warmth could not fail
the jazz or the blues
dewy din how it whales
the champagne and wine do flow freely
when there touched they sparkle and hail
my love splashed through he ocean
like a Dear John through the mail
the wind is the only thing
that pushes the sail
like a prisoner awaits
for his dutiful wife to bring bail
her voluptuous face, once glamorous
now a chalk grey pale
in this little Jazz cafe
my heart becomes stale
