The Sanctuary Of Blues Poem by Robert Rittel

There is the story of the man with the guitar, out of tune and old,
desperate and poor he walked along at night counting stars quiet and bold.
The crossroad of choices in this bright moon presents it's self revealing,
a mysterious person in elegant suit and a golden smile appeared quite appealing.

He offered the poor man a deal for fame and riches all include,
just playing the blues to entertain the working folks with no interlude.
He wanted his soul in exchange to keep, when meeting on the crossroad again.
giving the man the touch of sound that interferes with the brain.

The man with the guitar agreed to the deal and heading south,
the mind full of simple melodies and rhymes coming from his smoky mouth.
Playing in drinking halls and brothels for a good dime,
not denying the pleasure coming in that frame of time.

The blues caught many talented fires, giving opportunities all its desire,
every muso added some individual touch, giving it soul to admire.
That music took on many forms, the dirty blues became the classic rock,
and millions of people created a generation following that flock.

The man with the guitar now in elegant suit, had to go to that crossroad again,
where the stranger from so long ago demanded his bargain.
"You can have my guitar and soul now with greatest pleasure,
then they have given a sanctuary for thousands for the beat beyond measure".

The stranger with his smirk of smile, realized his captured failure,
when he thought he is the ultimate undertaker.
The man with the guitar knew that music is a divine intervention,
that proofs celestial and earth creature in co-extension.