© Scott F Savage 7/2021
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Tag: song
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was that the moment?
Posted at 12:10 am , on July 14, 2021
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She Wrote A Song
Posted at 3:03 am , on June 11, 2021
She wrote a song while in a dance
a sinewy figurine.
We watched from near the entrance,
a place that held our dreams.
The shadows round a dance floor show
a silence would we mean.
Our lives belong in harmony
yet always we do scream.
I wondered about her eyes that night
the tears began to scream
I couldn’t fix just anything
I should have stayed alone.
Tonight I’ll know the love we may
can only find the time.
©️ Scott F Savage 6/2021
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Seeking Stillness
Posted at 9:21 pm , on January 8, 2021
For once could the night hold promise
sweet would be her magical caress,
the feeling of my fingertips running her brow,
soft the eyes would let my own follow.
We would in this form charm a cold heart
for now I walk inside galleried art
where names in a corner represent someone
whom I wish would may be the one.
The her, the me, the sudden turn then empty
when will I, how, could you, we were … empty
The hardest part is never really knowing why
even the knowing too much we will cry
when faced with letting go, this good bye, a no
when will the skies just let a time before me know
though there in truth swoon the dove
whose song would symbolize sweet love.
© Scott F Savage 1/2021
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Moments of Hope
Posted at 6:24 pm , on November 19, 2019
I sang a ballad in my mind
just the other day,
like every other passage,
meant just for you,
for only you,
for whenever I mind
my passions,
they return me to your side,
though it is an imaginative
side of you,
the real
being a distant memory.
I sat alone just the other day,
I smiled
having spoken to you
in the only way I know,
a brief charter along some pleasantry
with a deep pool of love,
the sort we might feel
even when so many miles away.
I put my music on today,
the same,
quiet reminder of that moment,
when your lips did press mine,
we kissed and the world seemed
so lovely okay,
if only for the silence
of our eyes
searching one another
in dreams.
I wonder sometime if when the seas
do settle along a horizon
will we be there,
can we be standing together
one time,
letting the sun set
while I might feel
your gentle fair
skin soft sublime,
to live a life
we never shall.
© Scott F Savage 2019
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A Wonderful Journey
Posted at 7:18 pm , on October 7, 2019
We have written songs about it,
well, they have,
though we might sometime wish
we remember the beauty of passion
enough to put desire into melody.
There is a somber moment
reminds us of the untouchable nature
of a certain sensuality
out of reach,
though always affable.
One time, maybe multiple times,
in our lives we could,
well we would,
yet, we could
recall a symbiotic journey.
Well upon that simple analogy,
let a love song speak soft memory.
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Burn
Posted at 5:04 am , on April 7, 2019
We loved
one set of hours
seemed
a decade
mindful neglect
yet a crazy dawn
smiles
though present
a mind of nostalgia
too immediate
circles of the past
live your life
Burn
fade away
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The First Time … Kissed
Posted at 7:59 pm , on March 14, 2019
I woke from a dream this morning,
the sunlight clearly indicating my haste,
begin another day,
a silent realization, a song.
Somehow Roberta Flack gave me words,
‘The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face,’
seemed to let my dream invite my day.
I wondered how I could know the lyrics
I played it again in a soft shower
a sweet reminder, a place to cry,
letting my tears mix with the heat
trying to wake beyond her dream.
Such soulful melody, watching now,
a sunrise that would remind me again,
the first time,
when I did once kiss her with passion.
I found other medleys, trying to seek some
reckoning, and yet, realized, there is only one.
The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face – Roberta Flack (Youtube)
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What Measure Is Love
Posted at 4:49 pm , on February 12, 2019
Who determines,
inside a dream we fly,
yet so quickly the descent
if once begun.
there finds no true answer
why.
Oh there is promise
the look in one’s eyes
to suggest this,
what a moment might
contain
could forever be in our
sky.
Clouds appear
we brush them aside,
for it is now,
not later,
the overcast nature
of indecision
will hurry past our lives
will eventually answer
nigh
There was this time,
once,
when she might show me
a tear,
it was love,
some kind of sensibility,
until that day,
when she turned away,
my words
she no longer
understood,
though she could
let me go,
knowing I might,
safely
cry.
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When This Morning Becomes Yesterday
Posted at 12:37 am , on January 9, 2019
I used to listen to this,
it was called a New Age sound
Wyndam Hills label
I found myself compelled by
such simplicity,
a drug of sorts
because the music could not
take me places
i couldn’t go alone,
I felt there was someone with me,
all the time,
sitting at the keyboard
with a sweet smile
because he too
wanted some quiet,
but a purposeful journey
I’m struggling tonight,
because I’ve forgotten how to write.
I told a friend of mine,
I’d lost my words
and I couldn’t tell you where they’ve gone
traveling somewhere on their own,
waiting for the sound,
waiting for George,
he’ll repeat himself,
and there’ll be no carnage …
only sweet love.
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