Sing me no songs of the daylight
for the sun is the enemy of lovers.
Sing me instead of shadows and darkness
and the memories of midnight.
Sing me no songs of domestic brews
for the lite beers do not intoxicate.
Sing me instead of red wine and absinthe
and the grace of my intemperate muse.
Sing me no songs of everyday women
for the office ladies do not inspire.
Sing me instead of strippers on stage
and late nights at the club.
Sing me no songs of bleached blonds
for they have nothing ‘neath their curls.
Sing me instead of smoldering red heads
and the grave misfortunes of virtue.
Sharing a poem that appeared in my first book, Wednesday Night Regular. The first stanza is shamelessly stolen from the ancient Greek poet, Sappho. I made some minor changes to my three stanzas tonight to bring it into my current style and punch it up a little with what I’ve learned over the past decade.