New Orlean’s Dream

In my dreams things are the same
there was no angry wind
there was no bitter rain
there was no savage hurricane
that had Katrina for a name

No bones of houses silhouetted
stark and rotting
against a darkening sky.
No terrifying cries for help
and no babies had to die.

My dream was of a better time
of wild parties, of flowing wine.
A hot tenor saxophone
blown by a real cool cat
that wailed so sweetly
in the softness of a summer night.

A woman sings of her lost love
of a hurting that haunts her soul
here smoky, sexy voice
fills the room with pain.

Her man went and done her wrong,
but now his sorry ass is gone.
Now she’s found another love,
who’s promised always to be true,
but she knows in time
he’ll do the same thing to.

Fragrant aromas fill the night,
old Joe’s cooking up
a Creole and Cajun delight.
Cat fish browning in a greasy pan
jambalaya and gumbo boiling on a stove
makes the mouths water
of every hungry man
that plays a horn on Bourbon Street

The scent of sweet jasmine
is carried by the summer wind.
Girls in sexy, frilly clothes
flirt from behind Japan fans
and dance as the trumpets play.
They blush as they surrender to
kisses from their handsome beaux
and whirl until the light of day.

Like all other sweet night dreams
mine to fades fast away
and leaves behind in its wake
the harsh reality of the day.
A lonely, tinny clarinet
plays in sadness and in regret
for the beauty that has passed away.

But like a phoenix
that has been consumed
by a bright, burning flame,
new Orleans will rise again.

The Big Easy shall be made a new
and a hot tenor sax
blown loudly by a real cool cat
will once more wail
in the softness of a summer’s night.

A dream will be reborn
by the sound of that golden horn.
Girlish laughter will fill the air
and young ladies from everywhere
will flirt from behind Japan fans
as they surrender without a care
to bold advances from their beaux.

The Big Easy calls me to come home.
A call I can’t ignore,
and I know on some sweet day
I’ll walk down Bourbon Street once more.

In my dreams things are the same
there was no angry wind
there was no bitter rain
there was no savage hurricane
that had Katrina for a name.

No bones of houses silhouetted
stark and rotting
against a darkening sky.
No terrifying cries for help
and no babies had to die.

 

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