Green Eyed Beauty
Made so young, yet he's unique,
With hair as black as ebony,
this is my green eyed beauty.
Tall, thin, yet he's shy as can be,
so soft is his words, and how he talks to me,
you cannot hide away from this green eyed beauty.
How the way he walks, how his hands sway along with his refine body,
how his hair just comb back behind his ears so perfectly,
this is the charm and trance which is hit on me by my green eyed beauty.
I sit in my room, can't get him out of my mind,
twitch my nose, rub my eyes,
there is no way to replace that green eyed beauty of mine.
So I say these words to you,
so endlessly true,
this poem was written by me,
for my beloved and sweet green eyed beauty.
____________________________________________________________
Passion
As the wind blows, and the stars shine,
sitting here against the trees I think to thyself,
How green thine eyes so bright,
How black thy hair is, and skin as smooth as silk.
Oh! How art passion for thy Louis, runs free,
How much can thy take to be yet unbroken,
captures thy soul and release it in thee,
and hear thy words to be spoken.
Oh! To hear thy words to my ears,
to have thy Louis in my arms,
to taste the sorrow he feels in thy tears,
to sit near the fire and feel its warmth.
Oh! I should not wait or cry,
for thy passion for thy Louis will never die.
____________________________________________________________
Down in New Orleans
Tap...tappy tapp...snap...snappy snap...
Uh huh, yeah that's the spot,
tap, you would hear that alot.
Oh, if you look, if you see,
here I am down in New Orleans.
Ghosts around, yeah without a sound,
there is that Voodoo Queen, she's hanging out.
Hearin a jazz band, playing that sweet music,
Ah don't stop, no, keep on playin don't quit.
There is a little lady waitin for you in Jackson Square,
oh no sonny don't you fear!
So...snap those fingers, move those feet,
cause know that you are down in New Orleans.
I walk on the street near Bourbon,
there goes that little jazzy sound.
Mardi Gras, those are the blast,
though its sad of how it lasts.
Doesn't bother me, cause here I am down in New Orleans.
Don't miss Paris, don't miss Tokyo,
though those two are my homes.
Oh I watch that little lady down near Jackson Square,
watching as she grabbed that sonny's hair!
Pulled away with a whisky in her hand,
headin to St. Louis Cemetery yeah I now understand.
But...it doesn't bother me,
cause I am home here down in New Orleans.
____________________________________________________________
