A Crowded Penthouse


A crowded penthouse, perched as a friendly siren,
Calling to all who may listen or join.
A flashing lighthouse of the truly cool,
Omitting groovy colors and sounds.
Rock and Roll professed in its most modest form
And endured by its makers.
An emotional bonding of mood,
Yes temporal, yet planted like seed;
A catalyst of values, we play and dance.

In the easy unwinding from climactic hours
Of six-string wooden guitars and songs,
This painting of a modern day minstrels orgy
Fades to a serene awe.
All that I see looking in at entranced fiends
Is genial lads engulfed in blue light;
An abstract portrait.
All that I hear, the strongest lure I know,
Is the beautiful voice of a sincere angel
Mating with notes from taught steel.
 
And tonight... Landslide is her parting song to us.

- JT

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