 The Enchanting Air Dances A Whispering Tune |
| The Enchanting Air Dances A Whispering Tune |
Written By Jack Rumble and Ginny Poli
He says . . .
Is that pain I see on Soft`rain?
It's no disgrace, don't hide your face
To try in vain will cause some pain
But to lose to the best is no disgrace
Just toast his fame with a smiling face
She says . . .
Ha! Pinball is my game
But I think pool is your fame
Hey, on the eight ball, is that your name?
Wondering now, to the champion bow
Or will pinball end the same?
He says. . .
In pinball I'm fair, which means to say
Expect to lose should we ever play
In games of chance I have no luck
In games of skill, you'll feel hit by a truck!
The challenge has been sent
Will you accept it or just repent?
She says. . .
'Tis a "toast" thou wants me to give with a glass
You see, of pool I have no cue or is that clue
To thee, oh famed sire, along with thy fabled sass
I pour thy drink and ponder thy drunken due
Thy skill, sire, is in thy hands, no lady luck thou say
Methinks, thou should kneel and start to pray!
He says. . .
With Shakespearean prose, she vents her woes
Of bitter defeat before they meet
His game was won before it begun
In her heart, the spark of fire has died
Of the challenge sent. Was there a hidden Aye?
She says. . .
I too, of lady luck hold no chance
While away from the truck I sweetly dance
Knowing his downfall was a bottled label
A sobering thought adorns thy table
Which displays thy lusty sword
As laughter is heard from thy noble lord
A returning smile with an arrow's speed
Is my hidden sigh and all you read!
Their hands now touch across the table. . .
He says. . .
This is getting hard on poor ole me
Words of rhyme are all I can see
Below the prose, a table I see
Dim lights, candles and you and me
Hands that reach and thoughts that touch
And steps that dance to waltzes and such
Sheeez . . . gotta work on the rest
It's tasking my brain, but I'll do my best
He gropes for words, starting again
as she files her nails and flashes a grin.
Lady luck of which we spoke
Would just as soon see me broke!
The sound of the truck went quickly bye
Leaving only the sound of the fiddler's cry
Quickly, again he counters. . .
No downfall has he with beer and wine
He keeps his wits all the time
The laughter you hear is all in fun
And the returning smiles have just begun
Slowly he continues. . .
A hidden sigh of baited breath is all that's needed
To start a quest
And the lights grow dimmer. . .
Softly she replies. . .
Ah, how nice! Would be hard to top
The comfort of thy candled place
With music swirling, makes my heart stop
And start with your charming pace
I think no drink his lips did touch
As my hand to his, I gently lay
One drink, 'twas hardly much
Of love's sweet wine to guide the way
No, the glass untouched, I see it clear
As hands hold tight and thou is near!
He answers. . .
The message received is sweet and clear
Of candles burning dim and whispers in an ear
Of hands held tight and songs of love
Of dancing thru the night and stars above
Of flowing wine and lips so sweet
Of hearts to stop, the picture complete!
She sends a smile to catch his eye
Off to work, they each wave bye!
June 25, 1997
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