“Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.” 

― Maya Angelou

Hello Dear Poets –

Welcome to Quadrille Monday here at dVerse. This week I’d like you to take any meaning, form or compound of the word music, and write a poem of exactly 44 words (not counting your title), including the prompt word. 

I was so excited to see we had not used the word music before for a quadrille prompt. Music has always played a vital role in my life. When I am happy, it gives me joy and when I am sad it offers solace. I am grateful that my husband and I both enjoy all kinds of music. A day seldom goes by without music playing in our house. 

I had a tough childhood. My mom left my dad when I was two and remarried later, and my step dad was partial to my little sister who was his child. However, some of my fondest memories that stand out are of my mom and step dad putting on an album of country music. My sister and I would fall asleep to the sounds of Jim Reeves, Marty Robbins, or Eddie Arnold.

My aunt and uncle bought an ice house in Houston when we were a bit older. My cousins and I loved running barefoot around the beer joint, looking for dropped money. We used the found bounty to play pool and shuffleboard. The patrons who frequented the place always gave us quarters to play the jukebox. We loved picking out songs! We could play five songs for a quarter, and we were so charming (or the people were so drunk) that we kept the music playing for hours. Yes, it was an unconventional childhood, but I was unique, and I don’t harbor any resentments. My childhood helped mold me into the woman I am today.

Here’s a fantastic poem I found: 

The Weary Blues

Langston Hughes – 1901-1967

Droning a drowsy syncopated tune,

Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,

     I heard a Negro play.

Down on Lenox Avenue the other night

By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light

     He did a lazy sway . . .

     He did a lazy sway . . .

To the tune o’ those Weary Blues.

With his ebony hands on each ivory key

He made that poor piano moan with melody.

     O Blues!

Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool

He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool.

     Sweet Blues!

Coming from a black man’s soul.

     O Blues!

In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone

I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan—

     “Ain’t got nobody in all this world,

       Ain’t got nobody but ma self.

       I’s gwine to quit ma frownin’

       And put ma troubles on the shelf.”

Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor.

He played a few chords then he sang some more—

     “I got the Weary Blues

       And I can’t be satisfied.

       Got the Weary Blues

       And can’t be satisfied—

       I ain’t happy no mo’

       And I wish that I had died.”

And far into the night he crooned that tune.

The stars went out and so did the moon.

The singer stopped playing and went to bed

While the Weary Blues echoed through his head.

He slept like a rock or a man that’s dead.

Here is a video of the oldest known song with lyrics:

Here’s how to take part in the Quadrille Prompt:
• Write a 44-word poem containing the word music (or variations)
• Post your quadrille on your blog and link back to this post.
• Place the link to your post on the Mister Linky page.
• Don’t forget to check the little box to accept use/privacy policy.
• Please visit other blogs and comment on their posts! 
• Have fun!