Biscuits and Blues

A plate of deep-fried chicken,
Slaw and greens and ice-cold beer
Did provide the perfect harmony
For what we came to hear.

When the blues is on the menu,
Southern fare is de rigueur
And the biscuits, honey-buttered,
Only added to the lure.

While the saxophone was wailing
And guitar strings nimbly picked,
We were chowing down on vittles,
Fingers prim and proper licked.

The proprietor was clever
In the name that he did choose
For we savored every moment
Of the biscuits and the blues.

"Biscuits and Blues" is a blues club in San Francisco
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Murray Avatar
July 9, 2016 at 1:56 PM
Would love to partake of the real blues from there sometime Ilene. You are making me hungry. Thank God my dinner is cooking as we speak.
A  Avatar
July 8, 2016 at 12:33 PM
enjolyed your write Ilene, thank you for sharing:), **LUV SKAT**
Bauer Avatar
July 8, 2016 at 2:49 PM
thank you for reading and commenting, skat!
Merryman Avatar
July 7, 2016 at 8:12 PM
Sounds delicious! An enjoyable descriptive write, Ilene! It looks like you are enjoying all your travels.
Bauer Avatar
July 8, 2016 at 2:49 PM
thanks, kim! yes, if i could travel someplace new every week, i'd be a happy camper...
Turner Avatar
July 7, 2016 at 7:07 PM
Nothing like a little soul food and live blues. A woman after my own heart. Love the write Ilene.
Bauer Avatar
July 8, 2016 at 2:48 PM
thank you, daniel! i wish i had more opportunities to hear the blues - it's a wonderful night out...
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