Saturday never dies.

Just been scribbling some words while listening to Miles Davis’ “My Funny Valentine” in concert.

Came across this beauty,
Her name was hidden,
I’ll call her Judy.
The strangest of affections;
So slowly she was walking,
Down the street,
Every fellow wanted her talking.

Her white blouse,
Made love to her skin,
Oh to be a dress in her house.
Oh to be of her kin.

A tree fell on its knee,
Asked her the question,
Which demanded her talking.
Furiousity arose,
The chaps circling this tree close.

Judy knew well,
No word was good enough to tell.
She danced,
She swayed.

She walked away.

Standing there I was,
Left with nothing but a blush.
Never recovered from Judy’s eyes.

Same goes for the tree.

For us,
Saturday never dies.


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