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John F McCullagh
Poems
Jan 2018
A Night for White Satin
When days of future pass
and cannot come again-
Half a century seems a moment.
A loved musician meets his end.
The haunting notes you played on the flute;
those somber moody blues-
will echo through eternity
though you, yourself be through.
A treasured disk of Vinyl;
A loved, remembered song.
I played it first when just a teen
living in my parents’ home.
A Sculptor’s work melts in the rain
It’s lines made indistinct
An author, once thought popular,
may soon be out of ink.
A film made in the golden age
is faded acetate.
The beauty of white satin nights
I hope escapes their fate.
( Ray Thomas, a founding member of the Moody Blues, has died. Their album " Days of Future Passed" was one of my first acquisitions.) 1967
#ray
#thomas
Written by
John F McCullagh
63/M/NY
(63/M/NY)
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