“So sweet, my goodness, Love so sexy, won’t you come and talk to me.”
Walls bind the listener in darkness with only the music as company. Forest-green blotted with autumn shadows mirror focused meditation. The echo of a solitary finger snapping ushers in a profusion of melodies.
Harp strings made of woven honey initiate the experience. Sticky to the touch and sweet to the ear. The composition laced with meditative, ivory caresses and seasoned with a heady aroma of brass, carry forward the conversation. Plaintive, velveteen voices are interlaced with hypnotic, percussive rhythm elevating the essence to a plane of resonant bass.
Each note made love to as each one is tasted and savored.
“Kiss me and hold me tight…”
Each note made love to as each one is caressed and experienced.
“I’ll be like the gentle leaves that rain on your window pane.”
The serene seduction of a flute maneuvers through the falling raindrops. The whispers of lovers are carried along on the crescendo of violin strings, while the percussion measures out the length of each heart beat.
Each note made love to as each one is scented and evaluated.
“Come get your blessings tonight…”
Each note made love to as each one is desired and satisfies.
“Let me make your dreams come true; Someday is tonight…”
Marveling at her dark hair and pretty brown. Lovingly kissed by the Sun and hugged by the melody. A deep sigh denotes the listeners’ satisfaction as each bar guides them into the afterglow of resolution.
At the crossroads a meeting takes place. One of creativity, passion, and soul. Culminating in a dream conceived in black and white to be birthed in surreal color.
The love song.
by malakhai jonezs