Ours was an unbridled love
A tale of lust and passion
Blessed beneath a midnight sky and a dusty summer rain.
Queen Ella inspires my writing. Her sequins, satin, and sighs, to the way she wipes her brow. The swing of her head. It all mixes into a bewitching shot of seductive appeal.
What’s not to love about Young’s score, ‘Stella By Starlight’, Ned Washington’s lyrics, and Ella’s sultry swoon? An ‘endless spring’ or ‘Stella by starlight, with moon in her hair.’ Enchanted.
~ Victor Young, Ned Washington, Ella Fitzgerald
Fall in love all over again.
I dream you
in the dark. This is where our love is found. In a place, as far away as moonlight, is where you touch my skin.
Your hand slips into mine.
I can’t let go. You are the one who lifted me up; the one who left me on my knees.
Do you think if I begged the night hard enough
she’d give you back to me?
~ As Far Away As Moonlight
If you were a book, I’d slip upon the page
and write you a hymn: To Love
The text, an alchemy of lost, of found
Shed tears and tangled blooms.
I’ll write you a boulevard cradled by oak
Swept up in a crescendo storm
In an empty room, beneath an altar of glass,
Captive, we’ll pray.
Words dance through pain, tussle with greed, as we swallow shots of shame
To shiver in the reckoning: Love never fails
As you gasp, breathless
Upon rumpled hope
I’ll soothe your sleep to dream.
In the still of morning, you’ll reach for me
Words beneath the cover.
and you erased me from the page as if I had never existed, as if I had never mattered to you, as if I was a smudge.
Nature creates her own stories~Paeonia loves Apollo.
Bashful, shabby, beautiful.
dropping into another scene~
Roy’s arms reached for her and he whispered to no one. They existed in two worlds. A pane of glass separated him from his reality and Ella. A Sarah Vaughn song lulled his thoughts: ‘Lover Man.’
Meanwhile life went on. He knew this truth. The kids needed new shoes, Jacqueline nagged about a leaking tap, and the garage waited for paint.
In a garden, thirteen blocks across town, Ella paused beside a rose-bush and turned. A gentle wind wrapped itself around her. She imagined a presence, felt a hand warm her waist. A low voice whispered into her ear, “Wish that you were here.”
Ella turned, no one was there. She went back to her rose.
Across town, Roy rested his forehead against the glass. From outside he heard his daughters’ laughter. He’d paint the garage for his father in law.