At the trad jazz club

A drink in my hand
A crowded floor that Friday night
The band was loud and so were we
Free from work to do as we pleased
People jostled laughing out loud
Across the room I saw her there
Short dark hair and her eyes so bright
At the trad jazz club

The band was so loud                                

The dancers twirled their way around      

As I now glanced around the room            

She cocked her head looking at me         

I made my way across to her                   

She lowered her eyes a small grin           

Her friend nudged her without a sound 

At the trad jazz club                               

She got to her feet                                 

She was tiny about five foot none          

On the packed floor her hands were warm

We twisted and turned to the beat   

Up until they played “Petite Fleur” 

Then she placed her head on my chest 

Holding her close we were as one          

At the trad jazz club     

As if in a dream                               

I didn’t want to let her go  

This little flower that bloomed for me 

Took her back to her seat and friend 

But never saw her there again

So many years have passed me by 

I think of how I loved her so

At the trad jazz club   

Image found at www.sohobarstampa.com