Poem for Gregory By M.D. Ward And the band
plays on. In the hands of a
Saint. Silver Saxophone
Mr. Fantastic Trills and spills
licorice soul And giants rise
from the dead. Coltrane
laughing In the cool green
rain Miles on a flying
carpet Smoking his blue
horn There's a red
spotlight On a Muse infused
to electric strings That sing like
mystic birds forgotten He glows in the
dark Bright as the
moon. Bongo Jack The King of All
That Shines the
skins And the Magic
begins Inside this
little nook the God's Dwell Their hearts
beating out loud In the Hands of a
Saint. M. |