Friday Fictioneers-Lost Chords

Lost Chords

Lost Chords
100 words for Friday Fictioneers
Photoprompt © Connie Gayer

So often then I heard him sing
How he could make that steel string ring
Precise alignment on each fret
The kind of sound you don’t forget
Strumming fine and perfect rhyme
Right song, right singer and right time
His girl was always leaving him
His friends were all deceiving him
Even his mother done him wrong
It’s all about a country song
But though his hands look good to last
The sweet dexterity has passed
Into a page of history
Into a teardrop memory
Of smoky nights in smoky bars
And gingham girls and great guitars

 

 

 

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43 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers-Lost Chords

    1. It was a real pleasure to write. Something about the way he is holding that implement and of course his wonderful looks got me straight to a country singer. Thank you so much for your great comment.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. I do actually play and sing. As a teenager, I was going to be a rock & roll superstar. Later it was a blues band for fifteen years. Now, I occasionally play an acoustic and do a few old songs at church.

    Exellent poem, Jilly.

    Liked by 2 people

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