Bucket List
Their musical gifts are immeasurable.
Singing as naturally as birds in perfect pitch.
Fingers move across the fretboard with astonishing ease.
Bow and fiddle sing out far and wide.
The bass thumps in perfect time.
And I, a toad, sit among them, mandolin in hand,
Clearly where I don’t belong.
Remembering the chord changes is a challenge,
Improvising a solo, impossible.
Yet here I am.
They are angels, not just in voice, but in grace,
Treating me as though I am one of them,
Encouraging me to sing and to play
And cheering me on.
A bucket list
Kind of thing for me, a poser,
Performing on stage
Before an actual audience
With musicians who are the real deal.
12 thoughts on "Bucket List "
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” I, a toad, sit among them, mandolin in hand,”
The concept of this ” bucket list ” poem is wonderful.
And ” mandolinist ” is the word of the week at our house. ( Pam put one on a train in her poem) we’re still not certain it’s a word.
Anyway you are mandolinist extraordinaire.
Thank you! I always appreciate your feedback.
Wonderful, Wayne. The experience sounds like heaven and hell at once.
Terrifying until I actually walked on stage and started performing. Then it was a rush. Walked away high on it.
Sometimes I wish those of us who are writers and painters c
could be in a venue where people would applaud and cheer for our work!
Wayne, you should come to Cafe Luigart and/or Poetry at the Table, both monthly reading series in Lexington. The scenario you describe happens there all the time!
Wayne, You really should! It’s a motley crew of writers, musicians and other assorted artists.
Sounds great!
What a pleasure! Here to tell you that I on a t-shirt a frog playing mandolin on right now. If frogd can do it, why can’t we?
I wish this frogs could type but I hope you got the gist. Sorry for typos. Is
love the toad and confess that real-deal musicians (dancers, poets, etc.) intimidate me no end
My experience with this was through the Kentucky Center for Traditional Music at Morehead State. There was this strange and wonderful mix of extremely gifted musicians who could play most any instrument you placed in front of them and folks like me who were trying to figure out how to play one thing competently. The culture there was such that everyone cheered everyone else on, no matter what their level. I should have been intimidated, but somehow I felt safe.