Music in the Mountains

It’s the bow on the fiddle strings

and the stomping of the feet

it’s slapping of the hambone

and the guitar’s rhythm beat


It’s the singer’s lonesome wailing

and the backup harmony

it’s the picking of the banjo

and the ballad’s melody


It’s gatherings on the porches

and under shady trees

it’s sweet iced tea and moonshine

and people wearing jeans


It’s Gypsy Dave and Pretty Little Pink

Barbry Ellen and Wild Bill Jones

it’s Elzic’s Farewell and Ducks on the Pond

and rollickin’ Shady Grove


It’s crickets singing nightsongs

the  wind in willow trees

it’s the flashing of the fireflies

and the rippling of the creek


It’s music in the mountains

in the sweet of summertime

It’s singing in our blood and veins

it calls the mountain kind


to come and sit and listen

to the way the old-time sounds

and sing an old-time hymn or two

or join in on a round


It’s people making music

the good old-fashioned way

they’ll play until the sun comes up

They’ll play the night away



About grannysu

storyteller, writer, poet, gardener, countrywoman
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3 Responses to Music in the Mountains

  1. Love this one, brings back so many memories..Susie

  2. Granny Sue says:

    Ah, I can imagine it does, Susie. Anyone who has experienced it won’t soon forget.

  3. Mamabug says:

    What a wonderful poem! I can picture it all in my mind, thanks for sharing this.

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