Day: April 3, 2015

Alone In This Room, With His Sounds

He was born in the month of May, 1926

65 years later, death came knocking

In a form, hidden by a stroke

I sit here, alone in this room

Watching the shadows of a candle dance

To the rhythm of his horn

The sways, the bursts, The long and sad

Drawn out notes

I’ve traveled with him, on countless mind-journeys

Too many far off lands

To sit back, listen

And just take it all in

I’ve gotten lost in the notes of Montreux, Paris and Hollywood

But I always end up

Back in this room

He grew up middle-class, just like me

He was a seeker, always evolving, just like me

We had so much in common

And I like to think

The notes he wrote, were written just for me

The candle is now almost burnt out

And he’s closing with a number I can sleep to

My last sip of scotch

In synch with the clean sadness of the ballad

I blow out the candle

And drift off

slipping in and out

Of this beautiful blue and green world

© Dicky J Loweman 2015


Slow Old Sun

High overhead

Washing out

All the problems of the day

clearing room for the relaxing thoughts

Hot beams

Extremely bright

Without worry


Moving across

Blue skies

taking his time, while heading west

The same as he does, everyday

So calm

So methodical

And peaceful


I come

By often

As often as I’m allowed time

With love and acceptance, for repetition

For warmth

For affection

For shine

© D J Loweman 2015