Found Poem



I was looking for another poem that I wrote but have never published or put on my blog. I couldn’t find it but instead found this poem that I wrote four years ago. Seems as though it would qualify for this prompt!!  It’s actually a true story. When I was at the beach a few years ago, I had a house right on the beach and it got so I never knew who I would find on my porch when I woke up in the morning. 

Found Poem

One and  two and three and four.
Four little music makers pounding on my door.
One beats a rhythm, one toots a horn––
wild and sweet––sort of forlorn.
One hums a tune behind his teeth––
a sort of descant underneath
the melody on the steel guitar.
The gulls reel in from near and far
to add their screams to the refrain,
then fan their wings, silent again.

Four musicians at my gate.
I wait for their music to abate.
Then I go and let them in
to add my music to the din.
I sing my lyrics fast and slow
first soft then loud, my lyrics go
up and over the drums and horn–
out into the sandy morn.
Over the rocks and out to sea,
setting all our music free.

When the drummer leaves my porch,
he leaves just three to loft the torch.
Too soon the horn, too, fades away
but the hummer’s here to stay,
and the steel guitar swells out to fill
the morning air until until
the morning fades into full sun
and our melody comes done.

Soon guitar and singer fade,
their morning share of music made,
and I fold my songs away.
I’ll bring them out some other day.
With music left behind I wind
only words around my mind.
They weave their spell with me along.
I lose myself in their noisy throng.
Wander aimless, round and round,
in getting lost, this poem is found.


For Fandango’s Dog Days of August Challenge: Something you Found.

This entry was posted in Poem and tagged , , , on by .

About lifelessons

My blog, which started out to be about overcoming grief, quickly grew into a blog about celebrating life. I post daily: poems, photographs, essays or stories. I've lived in countries all around the globe but have finally come to rest in Mexico, where I've lived since 2001. My books may be found on Amazon in Kindle and print format, my art in local Ajijic galleries. Hope to see you at my blog.

3 thoughts on “Found Poem

    1. lifelessons Post author

      Thanks, Fandango. This time at the beach was magical.Sometimes I’d find friends had come by, ordered meals from the restaurant next door, and were sitting on my porch eating breakfast!

      Liked by 1 person


    Oh, the photo caught my attention first~! A memory of so many years ago in high school when I took lessons on the steel guitar. This was long before our ears were blasted by harsh electronics, and the tone of the instrument was much more mellow~! But mine was not a dobro as the one in your photo, but rather a cheap Sears Roebuck which was all I could afford.

    Next your poem brought back more memories a long ago lost. My memory of jam sessions started as a very young kid, I was raised, more or less, by a tiny black lady who fed, cleaned and baby sat us while growing up. (that was the way it was done, thank God)~! Often when my parents left us with her, she would take us to her tiny shot gun row house in the “Quarters” where her brothers and other neighbors would sit on her front porch playing banjo, guitar, squeeze box, Jew’s Harp, Harmonica and anything else they could find for making ethereal, yet bone shaking jazz.

    Then moving into later years in New Orleans when we would go into the French Quarters (Burbon Street), very late at night when the musicians would all meet at one of the shops open to the street, after a night working in the clubs, to actually have a Jam Session. It always interested me that after a night of “working”, they would then meet to play what they best loved, for their own enjoyment. Some beating on pop bottles, rattling spoons, empty boxes or anything else that turned into “rag time music” along with the greatest and bestest~!

    Pete Fountain, who I only knew as Pete “fun tane” lived near us and we walked to elementary school together as kids, McDonough 28, though he did play in our little school band, I never dreamed he would some day become well known. I have one neat story to tell about the time he decided to fly like Superman, using a towel as his cape and broke his arm.

    So my long lost thing is once again very fine old memories of growing up with the jam sessions as you so well describe them.
    Thanks for helping me find those memories, I am a very fortunate man and still must show the very large collection of music instruments I have in “my barn”.
    Marion, (not SAM this time)



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