Smoke and Silk

The following poem was written by Chris Young for Edana, following the Isle of Wight gig to launch 'Still On My Feet'. Very many thanks to Chris for allowing us to publish his beautiful and touching poem here.

Smoke and Silk by Chris Young

The man at the keyboard scatters a flurry of perfumed notes into the silence

Like a cat slithering through a rose garden at dusk

Just before the rain begins to fall on the dry leaves…

And the drummer lightly brushes his drums

With bristles like fingertips barely gliding over smooth skin

And taps a few quick heartbeats with his sticks…

And the woman on the sax draws out a long moaning strand of melody

Like a curl of smoke from a black-and-white Bogie-and-Bacall film…

And the man leaning over the neck of his double bass

Reaches down and plucks a mile-long string

Like a halyard slapping a mast in a deserted boatyard

And milks the deep note for every last vibration…

And the woman in the black dress

With dark curly hair

And sensuous lips

And intense eyes that have seen the light and the dark

The rough and the smooth

Then grips the mike with both hands

And begins to sing the blues…

How far would I travel

To be where you are?

You’re in my blood like holy wine

I want to be seduced

How deep is the ocean?
How high is the sky?
You taste so bitter and so sweet

How far is the journey

From here to a star?

I could drink a case of you

And I would still be on my feet,

I want to hear her say

Just get yourself free

              And I would still be on my feet….

And as the silk in her voice melts away

She emerges from a trance as deep as the sea

Into an ocean wave of loud applause.