The lovely ladies,
The golden haired one,
And exotic brunnette,
Their Loving hours,
Are unlike their other hours,
The moon becomes a rose,
Singing with riveting salsa,
Sensual jazz,
Their ceiling chandelier,
Is modeling,
their warm dresses,

In their loving hours,
There is no ceiling to their love,
And loving,
Only the jazzy stars in the sky,

Their sighs in the warmth,
Of their candles glow,
And unsurpassed loving,
Is like nightingales swooning,
And cooing to one another,
Love ballads of the finest silks,

The lovely ladies,
Loving hours are loving hours,
Very loving, so loving,
the jazz sprouts honey,
Their lips,
The gardens of rose passion,
and their wild, serene,
and exotic hair,
The moonlights song and dream
Reynaldo Casison