As we drove into the hazy sunlight,
each tree sang a song of the South;
The Spanish Moss and sassafras,
rose vividly in front of each house.

Our footsteps hit upon cobblestones,
as we walked through the park that day;
Where various monuments to local gentry,
loomed near lilac bushes on display.

The River Walk was such a surprise,
where many locals sold their wares;
Food and souvenirs in abundance,
and the scent of hydrangeas in the air.

A treat for those of us from the North,
to observe life in this lovely town;
Where churches stand in high regard,
and romance lingers all around.

The warmth of September upon us,
we climbed onto the river boat QUEEN;
The view from the water was sumptuous,
as the light from the boat still beamed.

I'll never forget our quaint little room,
that faced the precious park below;
A chance to watch the people stroll,
wandering off in the evening glow.

Our deck was like a silent chapel,
imbued with wine and sunset sighs;
We embraced when we heard music,
from a man's guitar as he sauntered by.

This wondrous night became a memory,
when we reached for the moon so high;
Then drank a toast to dear Savannah,
as the stars glistened in the indigo sky.

The lips which I once kissed,
lying still and cold beneath the damp ground,
those which inflamed mine,
far beyond passion, sound and fury--
having lifted my soul from the muddle of
sheer emptiness--a breathing fire sharply
extinguished.

While lonely flowers lay upon the grave,
the tomb of our anguished goodbyes--
The swells of my heart like a misty rose,
its petals shedding icy tears,
in the twilight hours of frozen air--
turning solemn and bleak as they kiss
My beloved's cheek.

Engulfed within the swirling black of night,
I searched for answers to my horrid plight;
The hours seemed too long to be erased,
and minutes flew as shadows in the chase.

To rectify the madness of my torment,
I prayed for God to hear my soul's lament;
And turn it into something real and true,
which I could understand in common view.

I wondered if the haunting wraiths began,
to catch my heart alone in lurid plan;
And when the smoke enveloped me in waves,
the bleakness seemed just like an earthly grave.

While questioning if Heaven could arouse,
a complex mission toward my holy vows;
I looked and saw a light which rose above,
and felt the angels shower me with love.

With solemn eyes she took his hand,
and walked the length of the street;
Her pain suffused with inner conflict,
while her gentle heart continued to beat.

Awakened now to a frightening existence,
her palm sweaty in the stranger's hands;
A single tear fell down onto her cheek,
the moment he opened the black van.

This man held a badge to her youthful face,
then made her sign some confusing papers;
While carried away from her own community,
leaving behind children who will live in fear.

From her small window she saw her 'abuela',
whose careworn hands waved a frantic goodbye;
The life she'd known ruined and torn away,
and off to a place where her words won't apply.  

The suffering we've witnessed can only foretell,
a stark future that leads to a living hell !

I can see tiny flashes before my eyes,
why in the world do they follow me ?
Many times my mind has been shattered,
by all the ghosts who won't set me free.

The colors which should light my days,
dissipate among the wavering tides;
And sunshine never leaves its place,
to cast its rays of hope by my side.

As a child I was sent far from my town,
yet never knowing exactly why;
I can't help but think it's my own fault,
and for years I was passed on by.

Those tiny flashes of warning--like stars,
bring shelter through torrential showers;
As if heaven sent them just to touch,
my desperate nights--my darkest hours.

But looking at their twinkling light,
they now appear as honored friends;
And the bluest sky opens up its heart,
sending sweet angels to make amends.

The haunted hours become subdued,
as God's angels taught me to pray;
And tears of relief ran down my cheeks,
as I learned how to face another day

A bouquet of jonquils sits gently on a chair,
its colors muted as the lightly scented air;
No longer fresh and lovely as before,
when first arriving at the marble door.

A twist in timely plans had come undone,
a wounded soul flew outward toward the sun;
The wailing captured everyone's attention,
no doubt her heart could use an intervention.

Yet no one could even find the maiden fair,
this gesture had caught her totally unaware;
Her future just destroyed before the altar,
left friends and family startled in the foyer.

Night fell swiftly above the church's steeple,
and bells rang out to calm the worried people;
Hours later while she wiped her tears away,
an angel called her home amidst dismay.

The night had lingered on and as she slept,
the bunch of jonquils carried to her breast;
Became the sign she never could forget,
so jaded were the petals of love's regret.

Perched high above the massive plain,
the curious forces of sun's redemption;
Connect to earth by a golden thread,
reviving the world in holy reflection.

Thoughts are gathered around this scene,
where words will lighten their heavy load;
And children revere the saintly affection,
poured forth from heaven's humble abode.

As the thread of life continues to shine,
and proudly sings with lively intention;
So much like the strings of a violin,
it orchestrates triumphant intervention.

With miraculous wonders from gods on high,
bringing comfort and warmth for all the ages;
This golden thread continues its journey,
as inspired voices quell the inner rage.