Homework w/e 28.7.14 - Jazz in the Vineyard
Posted: Tue Jul 15, 2014 2:49 pm
Jazz in the Vineyard
Maureen Clifford © The Scribbly Bark Poet
The notes were strident in the air - staccato sharp – standing alone
like wine fermented in a cask, waiting for maturation.
Notes floating free across the vines
that grew the grapes for finest wines -
supped, sipped and savoured beneath pines
at this Vineyard where grown.
Today the sun was shining bright – and winter warm. Out of the breeze
were rows of chairs and tables white and heard a susurration
of whispers from the audience there
who listened to the trumpets blare -
enjoyed the day without a care
eating crackers and cheese.
The ticket sales were through the roof – quickly sold out – much in demand
Jazz in the Vineyard long earmarked and now anticipation
was running high – James would be there
and man that bloke could play with flair
which guaranteed his name would snare
punters to this dry land.
With bellies full, mellowed with wine, on grassy sward amongst the vine
they heard the final note drift upward to its last cessation.
Applause rang out, the audience stood;
all classified their day as good
and took home bottles aged on wood -
their bounty – Stanthorpe wine.
Maureen Clifford © The Scribbly Bark Poet
The notes were strident in the air - staccato sharp – standing alone
like wine fermented in a cask, waiting for maturation.
Notes floating free across the vines
that grew the grapes for finest wines -
supped, sipped and savoured beneath pines
at this Vineyard where grown.
Today the sun was shining bright – and winter warm. Out of the breeze
were rows of chairs and tables white and heard a susurration
of whispers from the audience there
who listened to the trumpets blare -
enjoyed the day without a care
eating crackers and cheese.
The ticket sales were through the roof – quickly sold out – much in demand
Jazz in the Vineyard long earmarked and now anticipation
was running high – James would be there
and man that bloke could play with flair
which guaranteed his name would snare
punters to this dry land.
With bellies full, mellowed with wine, on grassy sward amongst the vine
they heard the final note drift upward to its last cessation.
Applause rang out, the audience stood;
all classified their day as good
and took home bottles aged on wood -
their bounty – Stanthorpe wine.