Saturday, April 06, 2013


He plucked it like a maniac
and played it like a saint
his patented guitar attack
could make the fragile faint
with attitude and frizzy hair
his talent was beyond compare

another grey ghost drifting
through tall and lonely pines
the morning fog is lifting
a fresh spring sun intensely shines
and though this free bird had to fly
he blazed a trail across the sky.

***Dedicated to Allen Collins, one of the founding members of Lynyrd Skynyrd. The Gibson Firebird was one of his favorite guitars to play. I tried to get a pic to post but for some damn reason it's not working. I will post it if I can at some point. Well this ends week one of A-Z and if you didn't figure it out it was birds for titles, poems not about birds. Also on a larger scale the whole thing was of course a tribute to the challenge's founder Arlee Bird. I guess you could say it's my way of um giving the uh bird to um Mr. Bird. Hmmm sounded much better in my head ;-) what's up for next week, tune in to see, bye for now.***


Donna Smith said...

Oh, duh! The bird for Bird, too! And now you are going to change it...I'll always be one step behind you - figuring it out just before it's time to switch! Loved this week's posts.

rch said...

Hey Donna, thanks a lot, just trying to keep it interesting, but I really need to catch up on my commenting, uggg I'm sooo busy.

Anonymous said...

Very cool poem - you can almost hear the riffs! So many great ones have gone, but their music will always remain. As will your poem! Enjoy the A to Z journey!
Jess / Blogging on the Brink

Stormcat Poetry said...

You got me on this one. Your writing birdland and skynard, I'm reading Stravinsky or Persian Mythology.

Really enjoy your work. I think I'll join you're blog.