He is beautiful,
with his James Dean smile,
his gentle voice,
a powerful voice
trembling bodies
in his presence.
A playful being
most content
with his guitar.
He loves to serenade
anyone who will listen.
Deviously charming,
he's disarming,
with his talent radiating
so brightly,
it's almost blinding.
Possessed by musical notes,
begging for composition,
he's hungry for
musical collaboration.
Like wine,
Intoxicating
those around
with his sound.
Why can't he be here?
His voice will always remain,
preserved in vinyl grooves,
in electronic bits,
singing forever,
shining forever.
His heavenly tunes
reaching from beyond,
forming a bond,
with those who welcome
him in their hearts.
©drvodka2005
*dedicated to Jeff Buckley
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2 comments:
is this poem dedicated to anyone in particular? Looks like you need to begin sending your poems out for publication. Think Writers and Poets Magazine....
yes, it's a homage to Jeff Buckley..i posted about him before. It also can be for other musicians like a certain British one i know.
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