In youth as in music once stood
Where flowers grew in his shoes
And no matter what, where or when
His wife would always sing the blues.
To blues, that we owe the poets right
To grow elsewhere other than in shoes
But, every morning, noon and night
You'd hear a velvet voice sing the blues.
Guitar Beatniks with a Huckleberry grin
In old age, a writer writes on old grey Wolf
In the thought of imaginations, music is in
Suddenly on the radio was good old blues.
Cotton fields listen as wheat grows old
Rocking chairs tap to what they choose
Records on plastic now you've been told
To listen to Elvis sing 'Blues Suede shoes'.
Tommy's all-natural when singing the blues
Mothers all give when a star has been born
Suddenly again another rhyme for you to use
From the heartbeat to a field of the old corn.
-
Author:
kingkev101 (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 9th, 2019 12:06
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 47
Offline)
Comments5
Excellent Kevin
Thank you, Andrew. Much appreciated...
Good write Kevin.
Thanks, orchi...
Those blues tell and told so many truths in our lives.
So true a statement, Goldie..!1
Kevin,
“Mothers all give when a star has been born”
Let us sing those blues while laying off Elvis’s ‘Blue Suede Shoes’!
A great write! Thank you for sharing!
~Laura~
Great reply, Laura. Nice to see you popped in...
I try to pop in whenever I can!!
Take care of yourself!
I really like this Kevin... great beat and rhythm my friend and some cracking blues notes that thread all the way through.........................................
Neville
It sure does, Neville. I wish I was born in Memphis and growing up learning how to catch inside the blues music. I love all types of music and as you can tell Blues is one of my best.
I like the blues too..
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.