I listen to the water lapping at the shore.
I smell the fragrant perfume of the Magnolia Trees,
Combined with the intoxicating Gardenia.
I see the trees laced with Spanish Moss,
As we ladies sit and sip cold lemonade.
Beautiful full lacey dresses, and up swept hairdos'.
Some holding parasols, and others dainty fans.
Chatting quietly, laughing politely,
As a quartet plays chamber songs.
The young men very handsome and attentive...
Then a buzzing sound invades!
And I wake with a start to the incessant alarm clock,
As my copy of Gone With The Wind
Slowly slides from my bed to the floor.
Alas, was but a dream!

©  Sherry Falling Leaf Jones
July 12, 2006
Southern Band Tuscarora Indian Tribe..member