By Donna Puglisi
Cape Canaveral Branch
Towering ladies with withered arms stretch toward the sky,
wearing tattered remnants of summer and fall.
Long outstretched fingers dangle feathered moss, like boas
adorning old veined necks.
These are the old ones,
the regal ladies,
Grand Dames, revered trees of the South.
Bending to reach each other in windy conversations,
embracing across dusty roads,
they ache with weariness of ages, still dressed in mossy glory,
flaunting feathered hats of leaves;
proudly standing for show,
speaking to those who will look and listen
to stories of years past,
Our beautiful Grand Dames of the South!
A wonderful poem!
Thank you.
Love to hear encouraging words! Beauty is all around us if we only look and listen!
JUST A LOVELY POEM AND HEARTFELT.
Thank you! I wrote that in Sarasota. St. Augustine was also inspirational, with its old trees arching to form a gorgeous cathedral-like dome to welcome us through!
Thank you!!
I loved your images and comparison to women of the South. A beautiful poem!
Kathy, much appreciated! We all are Grand Dames!
Donna,
You take me to Savannah, Georgia and in my mind to Beaufort, SC. I am a huge Pat Conroy fan. There is so much to learn from all kinds of grand dames. I love the architecture, the coastal land, southern writers, yet detest the problems inherent in so much of those times. I love “withered arms” and “tattered remnants”; I could see these Grand Dames in conversation with their mossy wraps flapping about. A lovely poem.
Thank you so much for that, Janet! I love those Grand Dames!!!