Drummer Boy

It’s tender love-making, 
as velvet infiltrates my ears. 
My benevolent home is whispering.
I wonder, where he has been all these years. 

It’s lying on a bed of roses, 
as melancholy catches my eyes.
He perfects the drums and rocks the basses.
I remember, hearing the heavens sigh.

He’s Jazz From Rock Central, sets my heart racing. 
He’s Sinatra in late autumn, as I go by swinging.

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