The Wild Blues

The strange lad found the sound he loved in the wild.

I walked with a ticket to the woods
To hear a soulful tune,
But deep within the shaded ferns, 
The wild began to croon.

No cables across the moss,
With the deep bass from the trees,
The crickets tapped a steady beat,
Striking keys upon the breeze.

The robin took the melody,
And plucked the highest string,
While a chough with crimson wing,
Made the dry pine forest sing.

Far off, two legends take the stage,
To woo the crowd with blues,
But as a fan, I cannot leave;
I've found the sound I love.