The Edge

When it’s late at night

And the jazz is low

The candle’s lit

And the words are slow

I’ll think of you,

Flying high

Sailing low,

Lady from the islands

With the jewelry

And the diamonds,

Sexy fingers on

Your keyboard

Turning magnets

Off and on,

I’ll hear the voice

When I first saw you

That said you

Won’t forget her,

Perhaps you’ve

Even met her

Some other place

Some other time.

Stephen Nesbitt ©