The Joys of Sax

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Sweet notes waft past in the chilly wind.

I had no choice but to change course. To surrender to its sweet invitation.

So there I was guided down the steps

and into the underground concert hall.  

There he was resplendent in a black jaded suit,

black tie, dark glasses.

Cultured notes floating effortlessly,

echoing against the cold tunnel.

I stood in awe. Admiring the poetic grace as his fingers caressed

his golden asset. His only possession.

Every bar told a story. This is his moment of glory.

The soul of sax. The spirit of freedom.

A once empty hat on the cold tiles tinkles with coins

as they rain from the heavens.

Changing lives. His and mine.

◄ The Redemption

Senior executive seeks suitable position ►

Comments

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Raj Ferds

Fri 13th Jan 2017 18:47

Cheers Colin. Always good to hear encouraging comments.

<Deleted User> (13762)

Fri 13th Jan 2017 17:35

love the title and what to me is its accompanying line:

Admiring the poetic grace as his fingers caressed
his golden asset

the sax has always been a sexy instrument but maybe I'm stretching the point of that line a little too far.

the tunnel and the coins raining down from the heavens are great images and leave us with much to think about.

nice one Chakraj

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