MUDDLED MUSAC

In muddled musac goes the history of music 

mans his varied fads ands fancies 

playing bands of sound that roam the slurs 

among our sighs and dreams there out in space 

a part of us 

it blends with light and pungent vapours 

singes swings a dance 

we cannot see and yet we wonder 

how it cannot BE. 

You see it's uttered muttered said 

and travels through the air 

it's resonance is pleasant from the one 

but then it mingles with the soup of ages 

and I fear becomes a deafening cacophony 

of elephant-like harmony 

his trumpet in the jungle 

sounding through the mangled trees 

half drowning oh ah me ah me 

where can it all be gone 

when I sing my little song 

it goes to thee 

the man I love is sitting next to me in fantasy 

his countenance is smiling 

despite the many words 

sometimes so totally absurd 

but no I'm not a nerd 

it all comes from my heart 

that instigates my art 

and flourishes with love 

inside of me.