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Jazz Dance


As I watched, the upright bassists hands,
Became spiders jumping on silken strands.
The bassist told a primitive tale
That was interrupted by the trumpets wail.
The trumpet argued the complexity
The sax agreed with Melody.
The drums enforced the upright bass.
Rhythms feet stomped a monstrous pace.
    That sent up clouds of dust.
        The pianist swayed with lust
        For the moves of Melody.

Hand in Hand, Rhythm and Melody,
Danced a dance to set us free
To set sparks in the musicians eyes
That reinforced the saxs cries
That gave force to the drummers beat
And set springs beneath our pounding feet.

A solo sprawled on the throat of the sax
It loosened our bodies and let our eyes relax
The guitarist told stories with his hands
Of distant places and caravans
The trumpet let out a powerful plea
Causing us to nod and agree.
A concentrated look on his face,
Hammering his notes into place,
    The pianist made a floor
On which Rhythm and Melody danced some more.
They danced above the ground
As the upright bass lent a solid sound
And when the drum found his voice
We were left without choice
But to sway and stomp some more.
So we happily stomped and swayed.
We danced as the jazz band played!

-Tim, 1999

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