five oclock shadow on your eight oclock face
you hold the mic tenderly in your embrace
your baby face wet with traces of sweat, and
you sing to me, you sing to me.
mainstage lights glitter and black ebony glows
brass band sparkle matches the shine on your shoes
the boys play on as you croon your song, and
you sing for me, you sing for me
heat wave in the words that haunt your lips
crowd of thousands wrapped 'round your fingertips
platinum wives and young women breathlessly gaze, as
you toy with us, you toy with us
black patent shoes dance on the door to my heart
your flirtatious promises are a well reheased art
I'm mesmerized by your contrived gestures of hand, and
I swoon for you, I swoon for you
Then it's over, the starry night fantasy done
you exit stage right, your encore is sung
Gentle chorus soft and familiar draws me back home
to my my true love's song, my true love's song.
Lesley-Anne writes to share hope, encouragment and small graces with those God puts in her path.
Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com
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