The Harlem Renaissance

A lone trumpeter stands
On a darkened stage
To fervent applause
Before he plays

Suddenly a sound
Blasts from his horn
The audience cheers
And jazz music is born

Down on the floor
The dancing begins
The stage lights up
And the crowd grins

The band leader sings
Scatting and prancing
The notes warm the soul –
Speak of love and romancing

Together it grows
And the writing starts,
Artists and singers
With jazz –
Beating in their hearts