The warm air softly brushes the tops of trees

Moonlight soaks the lavender colors on walls

Shadows play a game on the palleted adobe

From the sidewalk someone stands whistling

Is this a dream or just an in between odd world

Are the images fighting or erotically dancing here

The whistling is the music of Ravel’s Bolero

The castanets click amorously as the men tap

I am amidst the passacaglia of Latin lovers

Hibiscus hang succulently from the window

The light of the moon touches the flowers

Odors from the Night Blooming Jasmine

Permeates the melodies and the sambas

Cats mewl keeping their lusts venomous

They’re part of the scene upon the walls

Displaying cat emotions and feline fickleness

Using the pillow coving my head dissonance

Go away that I should sleep in utter quietness

This is simply the imagination of a poetic soul

One who works by day selling the world

Silently by night becomes the explorer

Foreign exchange, queer happenstance

Hidden messages waiting within the bottles

So alluring, it seduces a heart of gypsies

By the fireside drinking red wine uncontrolled

The music fades as the embers die solemnly

The taps of men silence within the lights

The hibiscus odor no longer lingers on air

The cats sound no more as the moon hides

Shadows dissipate within the lights of sun rays

The alarm sounds so loudly my ears ache

Awake for morning has arrived at daybreak

The gypsies gone and their rhythmic castanets

Adjusting my tie for the eight o clock bell

No rest for the weary here

Living in hell O operator give me number 9

If he doesn’t answer then give me back my dime

@…BJ2017