In the distance someone is playing
Bolero on a flute
It's melancholy melody is gripping me
To times I must not visit.
This night is heavy with sadness
Everything is filled
with the humidity of late summer
Moisture forms upon the glass of wine
In my hand
Water drips from the leaves of the parched trees
It forms in my heart.
In the sultry night air
someone is playing bolero on a flute
it is bringing her back to my vision.
I must not let her inside me.
And my heart is aching.
The breeze that carries the music
Is filled with water like unspilled tears.
My heart is releasing her as fresh as the day
That I fell in love with her.
In the distance someone is playing bolero on a flute
And my soul is aching
Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 6:10 PM UTC
In the distance someone is playing
Bolero on a flute
It's melancholy melody is gripping me
To times I must not visit.
This night is heavy with sadness
Everything is filled
with the humidity of late summer
Moisture forms upon the glass of wine
In my hand
Water drips from the leaves of the parched trees
It forms in my heart.
In the sultry night air
someone is playing bolero on a flute
it is bringing her back to my vision.
I must not let her inside me.
And my heart is aching.
The breeze that carries the music
Is filled with water like unspilled tears.
My heart is releasing her as fresh as the day
That I fell in love with her.
In the distance someone is playing bolero on a flute
And my soul is aching
Always liked bolero
It was ravells least important work
But to the world
His most important one.
****