"A Midnight Cabaret In The City Of Light"

Welcome to the warm Parisian evening
The bohemian steps under the gaslight
By day he is lost inside his loneliness
But he pines for his muse with the night.
Among prostitutes and street urchins
He moves with purpose silently along
Heading for some special destination
Where dancers rule the night in song.

This figure a poet by his very nature
His book of poems in a sack by hand
He shuffles past the sleeping beggars
To seek out the one whom understands.
Thieves like chameleons in shadows
Size him up as he silently moves along
Not quite knowing what to make of him
As his eyes reflect a madness begone.

He passes around some distant corner
To see an oaken sign above a doorway
"Midnight Cabaret" the words do read
And inside he can hear the pianist play.
He steps inside to the smoky chamber
And He lets his eyes adjust to the gloom
He scans the solemn faces of each patron
As he moves quietly through the room.

A dimly lit stage stands in the center
Now empty yet awaiting the next act
He takes his seat silent front and center
Removing the book of poems from his sack.
He begins to scribble and dot a line or two
As the piano player now stops for a beat
The poet looks up to see the curtain Part
From the stage to reveal that which is sweet.

A lithe Paris dancer of much exquisite beauty
Slowly and slender emerges upon the stage
All eyes are upon her and the poet he smiles
Pouring his lonely heart out to her on a page.
She dances so lissome for his quiet pleasure
Her Euro dance a hypnotic and romantic spell
The poet can't tear his eyes away from her
This pure heaven she offers him in his hell.

The dancer returns his smile, she knows ardor
"Oh l'amour", she whispers from across the room
The poet eternally mesmerized is her very prisoner
And he gladly surrenders to her pleasant doom.
She glides like air across the stage towards him
His heart plays the tune as he watches her move
Keys and ivory from the grandest piano itself
Couldn't come close to his heart's gentle tune.

It is this exact moment that he always lives for
Every night he sits here silent and entranced
Poetry and prose inspired by his elegant muse
Leaps from his pen stroke at her rapturous glance.
By day he lives in his own loss and past misery
But his dancer makes him come alive at night
The bohemian heart falls in love all over again
At a midnight cabaret in the sweet city of light.