The Medicine Show

Finally one that is not so morose....sometimes writing poetry is like travelling in the spring...the weather is unpredictable. But tonight I have been inspired. I am grateful for the flow...

The Medicine Show
Draw your bow lightly young man
Across your careful bound steel.
Strings of gold, songs of old
A reminiscent hillbilly band.

Poetry in motion.
A suggestive notion.
Toe tappin’
Foot stompin’
Hand slappin’
Work into a lather.
Pass the shine,
Spend some time,
Make a rhyme,
Make it mine,
Sing along
Rockabilly good time.

Make me cry,
Want to die,
In the arms of pretty little girl,
Harmony and infamy,
Never never see a poor man try
To chug a bottle dry
Faster then the tonic of the crow.
©J. Stark

Those who drink the tonic know what I am talking about...The Murder.