Liz - Art + Words
I Saw Liz Play Tonight
by Mimi Devens
I saw Liz play tonight.
I drove home alone in the dark
through mountains that have grown vaguely familiar.
The laughter of old friends,
the sound of familiar vowels
and intonation that I know
deep down in my bones.
They are like blankets around me
taking me into warmth
from a chill that doesn’t seem to end
with which I have grown so familiar.
I do not feel it until
someone wraps me in warmth
and I begin to melt -
just a little.
And it feels so good to be warm again.
I had forgotten.
Her music courses through me
Like my blood,
If only I could do with my pen
what Liz does with her bow….
I don’t know.
I long for home again.
Liz brings me home
Through mountains that are vaguely familiar
but are not.
Home is where your vowels are.
Our Bragging Rights Intact!
by RoseAnn Pollum
In Chicago, at a Party in the Basement
Of Uncle Oliver and Aunt Maureen’
What fun we had, Singing and Listening
To the Tunes You Played on the Fiddle
Sitting next to Your Dad.
Who Would Have Thought Where Those
Good Times and Joy Were Heading,
From the Basement to the Concert, Our
Bragging Rights Are Intact!
The World Is Getting To Know You and Hear
The Artwork of a Fiddle, Played by a
Young Cousin, Named after Our Grandma,
Accepting Awards from Ireland to the USA.
Traveling thru Ireland and Talking to
Musicians and Letting Them Know We Are the
Fiddle Player’s Cousins, Then Mention Your Name
Instand Recognition Because We Are Related.
From the Basement to the Concert,
Your Fiddle Playing is Melodious,
Your Very Name Is Fame, And
Liz Carroll Don’t Mind Your Cousins
We Just Love “Our Bragging Rights!”
© 1975 RoseAnn Pollum
The Fiddler's Feet
by RoseAnn Pollum
As Liz Carroll played with the grace of an angel
her feet kept time with the tune
she would glide the bow slowly upward
and her right heel would stomp, tap
while her left foot hit the floor with
with a tap and a tap and a tap
The room was filled with quiet
as the sound came down upon us
the neck of the fiddle was held
by the left hand doing time quickly
in silent motion
We listened, watched and marveled
at the joy the fiddle would compose
and the fiddler’s feet doing their
stomping, thumping and tapping
As the tune picked up in crescendo
the audience broke into clapping
both feet thumping and tapping
the roar of applause was exciting
then softly the bow slid down the fiddle
into music of celestial sound
Being part of a fiddler’s show
is something that happens rarely
blending into a tune and a motion
the bow, the fiddler and feet tapping
© 1998 RoseAnn Pollum
Liz performed at the Cultural Center Chicago IL September 19, 1998