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The Groupie
by Nancy Ames"Musicians never talk,
their fingers cannot lie,
they bow their heads and walk,
perpetually shy.
Arrangements are uptight,
you`re angry when you play,
applause fills up the night
and I am blown away.
White moon on midnight lake,
and waves of radio,
a dance that I can`t fake,
I drown in afterglow." 03/18/2018
Author's Note: another oldie
Posted on 03/18/2018
Copyright © 2026 Nancy Ames
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 03/18/18 at 07:20 PM I always like checking out other writers' earlier work. Nice one Nancy. When was it written? |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 03/19/18 at 11:43 AM Love the pace and the rhyme and the music and the rhythm and the mood of this poem. |
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