Bluegrass splashed on all the walls
dripped on the window panes
slipped out the doors
and painted through the air.
Pickers eased to solo turns…
of Dobro…silver luster shine
mandolin…mint and lilac, purple
fiddle…lemon yellow flashed
with lines of tangerine
banjo…copper, blood orange bright
bass…midnight blue, tobacco
A reed-voiced tenor
sewed words to melody
against the drum and pulse
of step dancing in that hall…
each stepper’s will and breath
implicit with shared need
of just tell me caller man
and I shall follow you.
Bonnie Marshall
Artist: Unknown
Proem... 
Reblogged this on Thoughts on stuff like magic.
This is amazing…I have been browsing your blog, it’s really breathtaking.
Deeply pleasant to know, Holly. I’m delighted you are a reader!
I’m reminded about synesthesia as I read this gorgeous poem. Are you a painter too? My favourite lines in this are those you close with.
We lived in North Carolina where I fell in love with quilting (oh, there are master quilters there) and bluegrass… in that old barn…we sat on hay bales. Quilting is the closest I come to art. Thanks, Sally.
My mom is a quilter and I’d say it is definitely an art form. The colours and patterns… I really liked the poem’s multi-sensory feel.
I’ve been pleased to know five master quilters…four wonderful crones one gentleman…I hung around needling just to hear their stories.
I wanted to get up and dance to this one Bonnie…Nicely quilted…
Thank you, John. Once upon a time I was fortunate enough to live in bluegrass.
“bass…midnight blue, tobacco” ….As I drive by the old and rusting tobacco barns on the river road I’ll think of this line, Bonnie.
There is a barn in Tennessee…racked tobacco summer afternoon–so fragrant. I’m thinking you know this, Jana.
My neighbor told me she and her girlfriends would walk to the dance in flat heels which they would hide in the bushes and put on the high heels when they got there.
Yeah…my mother made me wear s hat…I stuffed it in our mailbox on the way out. Small rebellions…that and others, help us to grow up…become confident. Thank you for reminding me of it. Smiles…
i am dazzled by the colors of the sounds and instruments and by this poem.
I’m glad you found this one, Michael…for it’s one of my favorites. Bless you!