Sittin’ at the Arnada Cafe

I’m sittin’ at the Arnada Cafe,
sippin’ on a cheap Chardonnay
wishin’ smokers would blow the other way.

Open mike is the format for tonight.
Home made songs seek to shed light
on the trials of the young and/or bright.

Summertime is rendered sweetly
to open the entertainment neatly.
A guitar and two larks enchant completely.

One guitar player after another
sings alone or with one or more others
words of lost loves, true friends or brothers.

One thinks a spaceship might take him away,
that thought really brightens the end of my day.
Is this any way for an ancient poet to play?

After a while when the rafters have rung,
I think with each new song I hear sung
I’m so glad that I’m far from being young.