Midnight Cafe.

And this story is a cliche until it happens to you...

They were playing Kenny G that night at Midnight Cafe,

When I saw you in a flurry of faces,

Little did I knew what to say,

At times like these words are found in traces,

 

I’m a believer of old school,

Sat by those red well fitted leather seats,

While you tried to play it cool,

Listening to one of my favourite beats,

 

The atmosphere seemed a little dizzy with smoke,

Exchanged glances to words in no time,

Dylan, Mclean and stories of your folk,

And the sax played at its prime,

 

The chandeliers seemed so pretty with brilliant spectrums,

As the mahogany glittered with soft romance,

I was happily floating on old red rums,

Everything was a such a heavenly trance,

 

Oh I wished it would go on forever,

But the clock never had anything good to say,

I knew I would see you never,

And I won’t forget this angel at Midnight Cafe...

Reviews

[...]

. oh! ... i thought so ... too ... that you never meet them ... until ... i met my soul mate ... but then that's just me ... the lost cause ... i love this verse ... the atmosphere comes alive ... there's a fragrance in this verse ... the fragrance of romance ... it is consuming ... though very unassuming ... the descriptions are crisp and complete the picture with finesse ... yeah ... i was there ... because you showed me the way ... to the mood ... the air ... and the music in there ... neat ...

[Sincerely, Sofia]

I love the picture you paint with your words.