Slip jigs and hornpipes fill a pub’s taproom
as a pure drop session steps up the pace.
Musical energy sweeps like a broom
as notes, not tied to staves, fly through the space.
Music by the people, for the people
taught to the next generation by ear
on fiddle, banjo and penny whistle.
New melodies take flight for all to hear.
These musicians are nourished by clear streams
flowing rapid and deep since ancient times
watering roots, inspiring countless dreams,
feeding a tradition with sparkling chimes.
Tankards, tunes and chat create a good craic;
once hooked by the muse, there’s no going back.
* A pub in Crossgate, Durham, that hosts a traditional music session each Monday evening. My son Dan Foster was a regular when studying folk music at Newcastle University. He returned last month when visiting England from his home in the USA. He had not played with these guys for more than two years, yet slipped into their ensemble playing seamlessly. I suppose that’s what happens when you are fluent in the language of music.