My words, His Rhythm

I want to write like Sinatra, sings.
I hear the rhythm, but my voice
It is not sultry, lacking in melody
I fall flat then go off key.

Would you please rescue me?
Write what I can hear but
Unable to sing, so my words
Can be the best music I project.
Sung by others but not by me.

The music, the words.
The rhythm heard.
By lovers here and
All around the world.
Like a singer with a gold record.

They dance, they sing, for us,
To each other as song birds,
Lover, looking for each other
Through the tunes of our songs.

Like a painting that inspires
Brings calm to those within
Its view that is what I want
My words, your music to do.


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