The Blues

decrative

Poetry tops the list of things I love. I’ve never had a chance to study it as an art form. The college I went to didn’t have much use for poetry. Nobody ever got rich from writing. I can make the statement they didn’t place much value on the written word as a means of expression. In my time there, only one creative writing class was offered every four years because it was a requirement for middle school teachers. I felt sorry for my professor. It was his last year before retirement. All my classmates did was complain. I decided to devote 2021 to writing different styles of poetry. Therefore, in February, I plan to write sonnets. I’ve titled this one The Blues.

The Blues

The first time I heard Baby Please Don’t Go

On a clear summer night with good reception

Over a Chicago station playing on the radio

I knew I was listening to musical perfection

Muddy’s voice stirred something deep in my soul

That one song hooked me on the blues

A sound I could relate to older than rock-n-roll

Deep in my heart music and joy revived a blown fuse

The blues isn’t a part of the modern American music scene

We shoved it into the past with the rest of our tradition

Some folks can even become, hostile, surly and mean

About three chords, twelve bars, played with a mission

For some of us the blues will never go away

As we listen to today’s music slowly decay

Who is Molly Shea?

Molly Shea is an accomplished fictional short story writer from Indiana who writes short stories and novels about a fictional town called Tecumseh.  To read more of her short stories and adventures, click here.

Be sure to follow Molly on Twitter!

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Published by henhouselady

I am the author of Saving the Hen House. I didn't know when I started it would turn into a series. I love to ride motorcycles, the blues, my family, and going on adventures. This old hen rocks.

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