First Key Largo now
Katrina and I'm knee
deep in dark muddy
waters in my mind I
see happier times,
even the slimey old
hanging spanish
moss comforts me
now
I seem to recall an old
southern song that goes
something like this before
satan stole my joy stole
my bliss.
Summertime and the livin's
is easy fish are a jumpin'
and the cotten is high your
daddy's rich and your mama's
oh so good lookin' so hush
pretty baby don't cha cry-.
One of these mornin's yer'
gonna rise up singin' yer'
gonna spread your wings
and take to the sky but till'
that mornin' there ain't
nothin' gonna harm you.
so hush pretty baby don't
cha' cry-.
Josette Marie Louise Lager
Copyright@2005
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
only for a time does the Lord of Flies have sway the good people of this land will build again and sweet music will be heard once again a lovely poem