"He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters." Psalm 23:2
Feel the southern breezes and the southern wind.
I'll show you where the dogwoods bloom, it's true.
Lost and found n lost again to the Honeysuckle Blue.
Have you ever seen the Blue Ridge Mountains, or the Chattahoochee.
Or the honeysuckle blue..uh oh oh. KK
Freshly cut grass, budding white oak leaf hydrangeas, Rose of Sharon, nine PM slippery heat, running spring water over moss covered rocks, black snakes, red buds, coon hounds releasing their last howl and calmness comes.
Drink a bottle of white summer wine tucked up in a wooden rocker on a wraparound porch with citronella candles crackling the hungry mosquitoes and the only distraction is the fireflies flickering over the tall Poke Salad and ripe tomato plants.
The Appalachians look like a bear on his back with spring green fur. The purple martins fly sleuthing overhead as the last bit of sunshine fades into the glassy lake. Cue the bullfrogs.
The condensation from the sweating crystal drips on my bare feet.
And the north star arrives on cue.
I realize just how tired I am. For the last five months, I've kept the erotic pace of my rapid love affair. Involved in the sexy trance of it all. And in our separation, the fatigue reaches the very southern bone of me.
Can't you hear the bluegrass?
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