I grew up to country music.
Like a second skin, I wear it.
I breathe it, I tune in to it always.
A country music CD always playing.
There wasn’t a day I remember,
the radio wasn’t tuned to country.
In the background cowboy songs were heard.
And me, singing along, mostly off-key.
I love those voices with a country twang.
The sound of the fiddle in those cowboy songs,
sometimes sad, sometimes happy.
Hillbilly music is country music.
Country music always tell a story.
I have cried, I have laughed, I have danced.
And in the stillness of the night,
I relax listening to country music.
From Slim Whitman’s yodeling,
to the duelling of banjos,
if it has a twang and the fiddle,
this non-American enjoys country music.
My country kings and queens I have.
From Jim Reeves and Hank Williams
to Kitty Wells and Bonnie Owens, to name a few.
Nostalgic eras of country giants.
At family functions, country music dominates.
Line dancing, a full dance floor.
Talking and laughing, enjoying the music.
Oldies a favourite, country is great.
By C.E. Pereira