Rhythm Of The Buskers

This a poem based on my

respect for those buskers

who spend many hours

entertaining crowds.

They are my heroes.

In this muggy...humid heat

playing fiddles on the street,

challenging musicians sweat

though begin in right mindset,

now they are ready to present

a song at their very first event:

here they come to perform for ya!

The Devil Went Down To Georgia.

Apprehension! Why there's none

as the strings tune up and strum,

weaving rhythm and some rhyme

for it's that all important air time.

Humble looser struggling to compete

respect to a winner kneeling at his feet,

been well tutored in art of persevering,

showing no nerves as audience cheering.

Crowds are stunned and amazed

at the way these two men played,

liveliness and swiftness of bows

expressing eagerness that shows,

Children dance as beat gets faster

two men play – each a real master,

lots of foot tapping from the crowd

clap along the audience are wowed.

Pixabay free image.