Ever been to the town called Tallahassee?
There you can meet a fine, pretty, young lassie
Tell her tall tales
Until she bails
Then leave Tallahassee all fat and sassy.
May 10, 2021
There was old man from Tallahassee
Who loved woman and lots of whiskey
That played the banjo
Loud and sometimes low
But his devoted fans were only three
4-14-18
Alexis Y.
A crooning owl sang me to sleep each night
From beyond the great oak that held my torn kite
Ripples from the pool filter heard each morn
Screened in porch that morning glories adorned
Spring came early for twenty-three grand years
Memories that will never disappear
Camellias, azaleas planted with care
Colorful fruit trees will always be there
But walks through my woodland have ended now
Economic struggles would not allow
A lady to live her remaining years
In the home where rain has washed away tears
* For Michael's "A Change of View" Contest
There once stayed a dove in Tallahassee
With blond hair the bonniest of lassies
She helped with my writes
Morning, noon and night
After breakfast, we started to write classy
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/carolyn.php
Down in Tallahassee
An American lassie stayed
Her poetry is a joy to read
It's the way her writes displayed
Writes on subjects cool
They en captured all our thoughts
Of history and life
Our imaginations caught
To Ormond Beach she travels
Near the ocean she will be
To stay in the family house
Fishing so frequently
And once she's settled in
To the Soup she will return
To grace us with her writes
For more i want to learn
Be safe in your journey
To make yourself at home
For we will all be here
I doubt we'll ever roam
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/carolyn.php
Down Tallahassee
Down Florida way
The talents of a poet
Make this Highlanders day
The writes we read
The tales she shares
Incredible words
Just make me stare
The more I read
The more I enjoy
I'm like a new kid
With it's favourite toy
As her grammar builds
The pictures show
Her mind on paper
As her words purely flow
A start and finish
Is a must
A poets honour
As the readers trust
This poet has it in her every say
I smile when her names my way
The manner in which she enriches us
To my poems she comments
And makes me blush
Proud polite and never flashy
This most wonderful
Tallahassee Lassie
I could not
Recognize his voice,
When I made this choice,
To sell my soul to the devil
I suppose, he wears the right clothes
We met underneath the Tallahassee Bridge
He plays a mean red fiddle, with a whiskey smile
With an Irish Jig, we dance down this road of life and death
upon hard grey streets of asphalt I drive
through morn’s muted orange glow
white headlights shine, red brake lights blink in time
with changing signals red, yellow, green
disoriented city visitors a hindrance to the flow
why at seven a.m.
now stopped two cars back waiting for green
a woman in a minivan ahead primps methodically
striving in effect to give herself a perm.
the man beside is engrossed in the news
early edition of today’s tabloid spread over the wheel
will he know when it’s time to go
behind, a husband and wife, I assume
each talk animatedly on their phones
while obnoxious unrestrained children carouse
a movie playing on the DVD
an ancient pickup stopped in the suicide lane
right turn flashing “let me in!”
green, the light changes, yet still we wait
one, two, three and horns start to blare
shaken are they from hypnotic states
virtual hair salons, libraries, and phone booths abandoned
traffic moves once again in earnest
until the very next crowded intersection.