Short Bluegrass Poems
Short Bluegrass Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Bluegrass by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Bluegrass by length and keyword.
From pirouettes to guitar frets
ballet to country crooners
Enchanted elegance poached
by bluegrass sand-duners
a patch of bluegrass;
ponders extroversion hues;
spikes jaded green grass
6/6/20
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2020
A musical pointer up in Grants Pass
just can’t get enough of bluegrass
To the banjos and strings
he prances and sings
but still misses the woodwinds and brass
Bluegrass banjos
fueling the vision
Death
is hard to take
sometimes
but it’s not
like we
ever had
a choice in the matter
It happens
of its own volition
fiddler speeds music up
dancers are getting dizzy
crowd claps and stamps
you are in hillbilly country now
make some noise if you want to live
bluegrass is real here
Grandpa fiddler was born in Bluegrass city
He could strum a fiddler like a diddler’s middy.
What does that mean? Ask a churched old biddy.
It means that you do not understand Bluegrass city.
What is it about a bluegrass banjo solo
That turns my crank and drives me loco
That foot tappin' beat
Can't control my feet
I freak out, guess I'm just a bluegrass banjo bozo
What is it about a bluegrass banjo solo
That turns my crank and drives me loco
That foot tappin' beat
Can't control my feet
I freak out, guess I'm just a bluegrass banjo bozo
I Love
music
love to listen
rock, folk, blues, bluegrass, jazz
poetry and music share the
same roots
music
I love to play
banjo and mandolin
I’m not very good but it soothes
my soul
Bette Midler and Cher
Liza Minelli
Disney music
Tony Orlando
Sing along with Mitch
Sonny and Cher
Elvis Presley
Bluegrass music
Rock-a-billy
Johnny Cash
The Supremes
Marching band
Rhythm
Music
Cher
What is it about a bluegrass banjo solo
That turns my crank and drives me loco
That foot tappin' beat
Can't control my feet
I freak out, guess I'm just a bluegrass banjo bozo
© Jack Ellison 2015
She is Marie Stradivari from the Italian violin makers of the Stradivarius.
Her instrument was created from spruce, willow, and maple,
it is probably worth millions.
We listen, tapping our feet,
happily thinking of bluegrass
It's time to cut the grass;
And along the beaten path;
~
a whirling blade of brass;
Metal touching Nature's staff;
~
Wayward stamps a bluegrass;
4/18/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2020
B ill Monroe is its father
L ester Flat, its brother
U ntil you learn the Masters
E xpect a few disasters
G ood practice will bear good fruit
R eplaying songs from grassroots
A ttend a festival soon
S mile when you hear a good croon
S weet music keeps you in tune
We are the Black Crows the bluegrass band told us when we came by.
Why in the world would they use that name? I asked my Uncle Sky.
Let’s go see them play he suggested, maybe there will be a little clue.
Their main banjo player was a big black crow named Uncle Simon Lou.
We are the Black Crows the bluegrass band told us when we came by.
Why in the world would they use that name? I asked my Uncle Sky.
Let’s go see them play he suggested, maybe there will be a little clue.
Their main banjo player was a big black crow named Uncle Simon Lou.
Must have a banjo
To get that Bluegrass sound
The bass is needed
To nail the rhythm down
Fiddle plays a lead
Tingles go up your spine
Guitar keeps the beat
Or picks melody line
The Mandolin chop
Makes the Bluegrass whole
Greater than its parts
Music of solid gold
Banjo strings ringing
Mandolin singing
Bass beating out time
Harmonic guitar
Fiddle sighing notes.
Playing so fast
The strings will snap
Bows will lose hair
Players don’t care.
Playing’s fun
Many runs
Filling air.
No cares
Bluegrass
Rules!
hllbilly hoe down
hard piece of straw in each mouth
bibbed overall dance
banjos and fiddles
potluck of fancy desserts
arkansas ham hocks
hound dogs on the porch
homemade corn liquor from gramps
square dancing parents
loud bluegrass music
pink taffy pull for the kids
toothless grandmothers
Charles
Stubborn, jolly, curious and easy-going
Brother of Jerry, “Big J”
Lover of peanut butter, sunshine and bluegrass music
Who feels lucky, happy and challenged
Who fears current politics, the IRS and death
Who would like to see a return of old time values, religion and friendships
Resident of Bellevue, WA
Sides
You have to have a banjo
To get that Bluegrass sound
The bass is a necessity
To nail the rhythm down
When the fiddler plays a lead
It shoots tingles up your spine
A guitar helps to keep the beat
Or pick the melody line
The Mandolin’s offbeat chop
Makes the Bluegrass whole
Greater than the sum of the parts
This music’s solid gold
There was an old man from Bluegrass,
who always ate green sassafras.
His tummy got icky,
somersaults and sicky,
took pills, now there’ll BEANO more gas!
A Limerick, Old or New: Your personal favorite Poetry Contest
8-8-6-6-8 syllable count
howmanysyllables.com
Written: April 10, 2018
Metronome heart beats in 4/4 time while mandolin chimes in staccato voice. In the background, guitar hums and banjo sings. Bluegrass echoes across southern winds; blues and mountain music force a dance from tranquil feet; it’s a concert fit for country royalty, at the Opry. The East coast clogs and smiles.
On the rolling winds,
Echo strains of the southland;
Gaia’s toe tapping.
Meadow was born out of a long line of fiddlers
Her bluegrass roots showed out without apology
We were tapping our feet after the first three notes
Songbirds hovered close, to get a better seat.
She’s a Williams all right, Old Grandma Williams said.
This is her Hatchet roots showing through said Aunt Hatchet.
Their feud was well-known in the Tennessee Valley.
After Williams’ first husband ran off with Aunt Hatchet.
I am sitting in a hotel lobby in a small town south of Des Moines
That means Iowa for those of you who did not know
I am drinking coffee with French Vanilla flavoring and sweetener
Waiting for my twin sister, listening to loud country western music
I would not mind the music if it was on a proper volume
It is weirdly loud and proud for six a.m.
as if it thinks it is better than rock and roll or bluegrass
my nerves are screaming