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Home of the Blues

They heard the breeze in oak trees Making weird melodies And they saw that as start of The Blues From Parish Jail they heard the wail Of a down-hearted frail And heard that as a part of The Blues From a whipporwill on Monkey Hill They heard a new note They pushed it through a horn Until it was worn Into a blue note And then they nursed it...they rehearsed it And then they gave out the news That New Orleans is home of The Blues (Sung to melody of "Birth of The Blues)

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




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Date: 6/9/2013 4:25:00 PM
Amazing
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Quentin Ehlinger
Date: 6/10/2013 11:31:00 AM
Thank you. (I guess.)
Date: 6/8/2013 9:17:00 AM
This is the first time I am reading your poem and I must say that I enjoy it very much. Nice musical reflection potrayed in this piece.
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Quentin Ehlinger
Date: 6/8/2013 9:53:00 AM
Thanks. It's a parody of the old classic "Birth of The Blues".

Book: Reflection on the Important Things