Twisty, Curvy Roads

For several years my band, The Second Line Jazz Band , would play a monthly show at a local venue in Round Rock, Texas. One of our most stalwart fans was Gloria Krause. No one would describe Gloria as a "spring chicken", but her spirit was as fresh as any springtime flower you have ever seen. One evening after the show, Gloria handed me a folded piece of paper with the words to a Christmas poem that she had written. She had titled the poem "Love, Love, Love At Christmas". She asked if I would set the words to music and I agreed that I would do my best. Gloria's poem sat in one of the innumerable paper piles on my desk for several weeks waiting for my attention. Eventually, the poem worked it's way to the top of my "do something about it" pile and I began the process of fitting words and melody into something that might be called a song. At our next show, I handed Gloria a CD recording and a printed copy of the song. The excitement in her eyes w...