Listening to the whine of that old blues harp,

oh you play so well, my brother

So much heart & so much soul,

When one tune ends

I can’t wait for another

You make it sound so bittersweet

Get people rising to their feet

Dancing so happy & free

Your playing really is

breathtaking to me

By: J.N.R Dutton

Old Mac

Old Mac, old buddy, you’re looking quite gray

I remember the red hair you had back in the day

It really stood out, looked like

a hot raging flame

but beyond that, you stood out

for so many other things

like the poems and music you wrote

& how your fingers danced so beautifully

across a great multitude of guitar strings

& how you kept a firm grip on the sweet

down home way you were raised

By: J.N.R Dutton

Mother Maybelle (A Poetic Tribute)

Such a talent, Mother Maybelle

That’s all that I can say,

it was raw and unpolished,

but you know what?

That’s okay

there’s such resounding beauty

in each instrument,

and every note I heard her play

By: J.N.R Dutton

Mother Maybelle was gone long before I came along,

but her talent & her songs are a beautiful legacy.

I am glad for recording technology preserving such treasure.

Playing To Win

Thoroughly enjoyed my time away from here, glad to be back though.

Here is a poem I wrote while on my break.

A singing South Georgia poet

With a million songs in his head, He’s a hard working guy

Early to rise, and not shy to say what needs to be said

Everybody says he’s got a throwback sound and so much depth, that’s rarely found anymore..

Everybody loves to listen, and they gather round,

He’ll sing until the day they lay his body down

In that southern ground, hey, eh….

For now, he’s on the road again, big wheels spin,

he’s making his living, playing to win

By: J.N.R Dutton