growing, lyrical, swirling words

We are, in ways, the sum of the songs that have captivated us, from youth through age, and each of our collections are unique, depending on the musical universe we find ourselves growing, lyrical, swirling words sundered unto our developing mental frames. Music becomes our essence and it’s presence can be transformative.

This guy took hold of the mike familiarly and changed before my eyes. When he stepped through the crowd, he was a simple, overweight, somewhat goofy little guy, with an all-too-ordinary job in an everyday world. Sign here and initial here. But he changed when he stepped up on stage. A meek and kind middle-aged man transformed into charm and charisma, belting out choreographed effusions from the heyday of song, of tuxedos and gin, drinking and loving into tomorrow. More for my baby, more for my road. The proud soft pauses of lyrical magic.

About David Cain

David Cain, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet - author of Witch, Song of Songs, Journals of Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances and others ...
This entry was posted in fiction, literature, novels, personal, writing and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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