Wednesday, 16 March 2011

Smokestack strikes

Rhythm washing over me,
feeling the beat rise,
light tap on drums skins,
matching bass's deep, lasting tones,
I am rinsed in blues,

swaying softly, relaxation flows,
pace drops, slowing down,
deep, lustful, bass notes,
accompany, his growling moan,
blue haze surrounds,

Harmonica, sharp yet sweet,
quick steps, dancing in time,
sounds of the train line,
he sings, higher now,
a lighter shade of blue,

Light dims, within the mind,
slide caresses, strings on guitar,
slower, even, than before,
organ whispers, behind,
his soulful, blue soaked words.


Inspired by listening to http://www.smokestack.co.uk/index.html
but also worth reading while listening to Howlin' Wolf Smokestack Lightning  Thanks Peter :)

3 comments:

  1. Love how this feels while reading. '..blue soaked words..' wonderful !

    ReplyDelete
  2. I love this poem. You capture the true jazz feeling, dear Abigail. Q x

    ReplyDelete
  3. Thankyou both for your lovely comments :)

    ReplyDelete