English poetry

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Pink Champagne (for Digby Fairweather)

Pink Champagne (for Digby Fairweather)

Not blues in twelve
But there is joy
And pink champagne,

The maker’s music
Trading eights
In syncopated synergy
From Dixieland to Rock ‘n’ Roll,

And here the cornet-master
Leads in tones
A trumpet cannot blow.

The sidemen nod their harmonies,
Engrossed;
Their music coursing
Through an energy of swing;

Piano-player’s fingers
Dancing round the tune;
A lover’s touch
Caressing melody from bass;
And sax, deep throated tenor
Shouting counterpoint
Above the drums’
Percussive ricochets.

Not blues in twelve,
But upbeat late
And shimmying
Like Sister Kate.

The cornet-master
Blows
An emptiness away.



Poem Pink Champagne (for Digby Fairweather) - Adrian Green