“The Saxophonist”

She watched him play

In the Club every night

That dark small Club

In the Basement

That handsome man

Who every night played

The Saxophone

How she loved the Saxophone

She was even beginning

To fall in love with him

There was no doubt

To her the Saxophone

Was the sexiest musical instrument

She just loved every sound that came from  it

It was like a Harley

She remembered the times

Well suffice to say she remembered

She would sit at her table

With the red chequered cloth

And the little lamp

As he played from the stage

He would look down to her

While she sipped her coffee, no alchohol

Every night his eyes would sway towards her

Was there something in what he did

She was too shy to approach him

Probably he was Married

Married Men to her

Were a “NO NO”

Of Course he could be Divorced

He could even be single

Perhaps he was Homosexual

Or even BiSexual

After all this was the City

For it all

This was the 1960s

Why should she be shy

Why shouldn’t she make herself known

Sex was just sex

Thats what her Friends told her

But for Her she wanted more than that

She didn’t want to be someone used

She needed to be loved and wanted

And she wanted to need someone and love them

Then one night, one Thursday night

A message was handed to her at her table

It was from “Max”

“Max” she thought “can’t be”

But it was to be

Max the Saxophonist

Would she have Dinner with him after the Show

Would she go

What about sex she thought

Did she go?

 

 

 

 

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11 thoughts on ““The Saxophonist”

    1. Mine too, have you ever heard of Kenny Ball a great English Trumpet player, he was born in Ilford, where I was brought up, and when he was older and had his band he lived a few houses from us, you could hear him practising.

      Liked by 1 person

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