Untitled





His music seeps into souls

Overtaking them with no choice

His joyous blues

Shoves misery away



Winsome sorry

Becoming his appearance

His music

His bloodline



Alluding his life

Through his crescendos

In a decrescendo atmosphere



Filling us with his life story

With every staff he filled



He feels us

While we convert each melody

So no instrument is left without his voice



His piano

Brings in the poor

Combining them

With the rich



Sniffing the vibrations of the bass

While leaving you high



Craving more and more

The "A-Train" leaves you in the "Wall Street Wail"

and the "Cotton Club Stomp"



Seducing every ear

Caressing every sax, trombone and bass string



Do you heed it?

Coming from every side-street corner



Tempting the stubborn man to tap his foot

and give in to his F scale and B-flat rises



Children of all ages

Swing into dance

Parents prance

With the chance of Duke arriving in town



Completing the evening

Made of anything

Because everything

Was hid envisioning



His music known

Through the land

Sheet music in hand

To be played for generations to come



"I love you Madly"



                                Bonnie Doster, Grade 11

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