listening to singles on a friday night
she had this voice
sultry and sad
band behind her
rhythmically energetic
and ever so melancholic
mesmerizing really
freezing you in thought
and action
there is this trumpet
somewhere in the middle
a wake up call really
shaking you to the core
reminding you
how much you miss her voice
and how badly
you want her back again
march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
My penchant for limericks caused me to commit this effort back around the turn of the century. I was very bad back then 🙂
Exciting a whole generation
Her voice took us past moderation
It sounded so sleek
Made us all grow weak
And led us into procreation.
And when she sang ‘Cry me a River’
Our hearts were all of a quiver
As girlfriends we cuddled
We hoped they were muddled
So more than a cuddle we’d give her.
how wonderful is this! thanks so much for sharing archiearchive ;`)
wonderful, love limericks
Εxquisite!
thank you dear friend
This is what I love most about your poetry — every poem I finish, I feel like I would do anything to be able to get the backstory. You make me crave information I’ll never get, whether it’s real or imagined. I want to pick your brain so badly.
Also, I love that this is just a touch sexy, but not so much that it stops me from imagining that this could be about the speaker’s mother. Then I wonder if she died, if she left him, why … Certainly it could be about a lover, an infatuation, a fantasy, a favorite musician who died. Or something completely different.
Love your work.
thanks so much, Shawna
J, this is beautiful.
thank you Denise