2018 Sonnet 12

Azelias are giants. Timber is King.
God has a house on every corner.
Banjos are banging. The mandolins sing.
Seems mother nature has nearly torn her

Skirt on a blackberry bush and the figs
Hang heavy out where the blueberry hedge
Finally gives way. Pecan tree grows big,
And I ain’t seen a peach grow but on the ledge

That cobbler smells great. But why let it cool?
It’ll melt ice cream like the sun melts snow
It’ll sweet you hard. It’ll make you drool.
Now don’t go saying I didn’t say so.

Low country outland, shrimp swim in the grits.
Fish stew, witches’ brew, give a taste bud fits.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s