You were just a kid when we met
I wore my hair high and wide.
And you were still a blonde –
And not yet a bride.
Our love of music sealed the deal
You just had to sing out loud.
I knew what I liked to play
And you made me proud.
The blues you found in your soul
Would flow out from your heart
And mine would quicken its pace
Whenever you would start.
You sang on table tops
You sang on a makeshift stage
The crowds would gather for you
Your name became the rage.
Through the times we lived,
We suffered great loss.
You through division
And mine with a cross.
But the progeny you had
Meant love would survive
The red-headed mama
In her joy was alive.
You practiced your art
And drew crowds late at night
You slept through the day
Dosed, dazed – a sight.
But there was glassy truth
In your voice of purple hue
You reigned o'er the land
And then they crowned you.
When the waters rose high
You were chased far away
Another blue called out
And there you would stay.
So the Queen was in exile
And her sullen people mad
The times were brown, dead
Interminably sad.
When the dipsy pain raged on
You fought it with pride
You gave us the truth
You never had lied.
When out in the hemlock
You floated into mist
Into the aether of the heavens
With love you were kissed.
I miss you, my darling
Your haughty hands, your smile.
We are destined to reunite.
Just wait. Wait a while.
©2019 Alan Smason
(Photo ©2018 Winston-Salem Journal)
