Young teen singer on a stage fate set long before.. secrets to be shared another time on other floors.. Music sweet to my ears.. pictures filled my eyes.. as air breathed is my life.. as true fills empty lies..
Blind since six Ray Charles had a beauty all his own.. you know.. just as Otis.. Mick and Janis all alone.. I was downstairs singing.. on a stage I dreamed.. audience was quiet listening.. quiet clams are steamed..
Kingston Trio harmonized.. wrote a song or two.. about how money won’t buy love.. other times so true.. music from around the world.. sung from.. to each heart.. love I found in music.. blues may tear apart..
Lonely lover looking.. missed love past and done.. still music sings and moans about that special one.. light in party tunnels.. Arenas.. Stadiums.. panties thrown manic sex.. soul singing in fun..
Years I traveled without moving.. save heart with a song.. lifetime found in love.. sung clear true and strong.. song breaks silent morning over ice Alaska way.. pure it can be heard.. each note each singing life that may..
share without intention.. beyond special sound.. made by living giving.. so feeling abounds..
So I thank the singer, writer.. yes I thank the air.. which vibrates intent of fates when songs I love are there.. thanks for travels in dream song.. in ‘on Stage Dreams’..
Singing learned or what I wrote.. melodies and schemes..
Words for this day.. One hour turned to tens of thousands.. a school.. valid yet somehow unrecognized in my mind.. just a moment singing was all there was.. for so long.. Peace Tony