AuthorsDen.com   Join | Login  

     Popular! Books, Stories, Articles, Poetry
Where Authors and Readers come together!

SIGNED BOOKS    AUTHORS    eBOOKS new!     BOOKS    STORIES    ARTICLES    POETRY    BLOGS    NEWS    EVENTS    VIDEOS    GOLD    SUCCESS    TESTIMONIALS

Featured Authors:  M. Pritchard, iRhoberta Shaler, iWayne Anderson, iArthur Jackson, iMiranda Pope, iMandeep Khera, iJeff Mason, i

  Home > Poetry > Poetry
Popular: Books, Stories, Articles, Poetry     

Linda Dousay

· Become a Fan
· Contact me
· Poetry
· Stories
· 24 Titles
· 82 Reviews
· Save to My Library
· Share with Friends!
·
Member Since: Mar, 2006

Linda Dousay, click here to update your pages on AuthorsDen.




Featured Book
Destiny's Mark
by KH LeMoyne

The Guardians of Eden Book 3 GENRE: Adult Urban Fantasy / Paranormal Romance..  
BookAds by Silver
Gold and Platinum Members


Featured Book
The Mythical Emblems of Gragodon - Volume 6
by Venkataraman Gopalakrishnan

The greatest of all enemies, Lord Drakileon, confronts the battle-weary warriors. Even the Gragodonian emblems cannot defeat him. Mighty heroes fall in the battle-field..  
BookAds by Silver
Gold and Platinum Members



Popular Poetry (Poetry)
  1.  Life and a Love
  2.  Australian storm
  3.  in honor of
  4.  Blue Morpho
  5.  I'm So Happy
  6.  Water Baby
  7.  Learning Experence
  8.  For Emily
  9.  Free Spirit
  10.  I Wish I Could Tell You...
  11.  Love It or Leave It !
  12.  Traveler's Lament
  13.  Defeat
  14.  Your Own Nuclear Power
  15.  My Scars
  16.  His Queen
  17.  Woodsmoke and Possibility....
  18.  Morning Thoughts
  19.  Memorial Day
  20.  Springtime Breeze





Paved with Diamonds
by Linda Dousay
Friday, May 12, 2006
Rated "G" by the Author.
Share   Print  Save   Become a Fan

Recent poems by Linda Dousay
•  Working Draft
•  The Wonder of it All
•  Papa's New Baby
•  I Have a Dream
•  Southern Comfort
           >> View all 22



I.

It was 1963, and my parents
were moving to Jacksonville, Florida.
Why me? Cheerleader, in the 7th grade,
in love with the boy of my dreams.
I practiced writing my name-to-be
Mrs. Lynn James Benoit
But what did it matter to parents
bent on their own way?

A southern girl takes her vows
seriously—I promised undying love—
packed pink curlers, record player,
bobby socks, tight skirts and sweaters;
wished the S.J. Welsh Middle School
every possible win—and moved
to another planet.

II.

Jacksonville’s highways were paved
with diamonds glittering in the hot sun.
Daddy drove to Jax beach.
Mama saw them first—whitecaps
rolling high above the skyline,
then folding over, it seemed, on top
of the road. I thought Beach Blvd. ran
straight into the depths of the ocean.

Daddy drove beneath tall archways
onto sand, where miles of white
met crashing surf, and long
wooden boardwalks were lined
with hot dog stands, loud music,
surf boards and beach boys—
dark tans, sun-bleached hair,
and other people unlike ourselves.

III.

Heaven on the east coast was buried
under the glum of the west side.
My clumpy saddle oxford shoes,
pageboy haircut—old fashioned.

I chopped off my dishwater blond hair,
threw socks and shoes to the back
of the closet and stayed in my room
while the rest of my family watched
Hoss and Little Joe ride the Ponderosa.

Who needs friends, I reasoned.
Roy Orbison sang “Only the Lonely”
and “Blue Bayou.”

I wrote poems to Lynn.

IV.

Mama had a plan:
Cut more of my hair
and add a permanent.

My baby-fine hair
frizzed and burned!

Next, penny loafers,
matching leather belt,
bleeding madras shirt,
burgundy A-line skirt,
my own bottle of English
Leather cologne—

"Now!" she said.

V.

Friday found me at a drive-in
on a double date.
 
My friend introduced me to her friends
parked on the left side of our car.
During intermission, one of the boys
asked my friend for my number.
He called the next morning.

"We're going swimming...,"

I saw rolling waves, sand, and
falling in love with a miracle
walking the shores of my soul.

“... in a canal,” he said.

I saw bottomless pits, dark
waters, unknown monsters
swimming murky depths.

He laughed, “Come with me.
I’ll show you heaven on earth.”

We packed fried chicken, drinks
and seven kids into a borrowed car.

VI.

The place was like home—
soft Saint Augustine grass
and shade trees reaching
across deep water.

I sat on the ground
running my fingers
through thick velvet
while everyone jumped
from a rope hanging in a tree.

He held my hand and led me
to the top of the tree.
If I kept my eyes open,
pumping my legs as soon as
I hit water, I did not go deep.

“Let’s jump two at a time,"
someone said.

"It’s easier on the bottom
of the rope,” he promised.

I felt wind in my face,
thick rope clutched
between my hands—
and fear. If I failed
to let go, I’d swing
back and hit the tree.

We jumped.

When his foot hit the top
of my head, I lost all faith.

Breaking the water a second
before him, I sank deeper,
until I knew I would never see
the Florida sunshine again!

Fighting my way to the surface
I climbed on shore, trembling.
He wrapped me in a towel
and told me to come with him
to the other side of the tree.

VII.

When I could talk, I told him
I hated Florida, hated my parents,
and hated my hair. I told him
my aunt believed out of sight
was out of mind, but Granny
said absence made the heart
grow fonder. I didn’t know
which was true . I was afraid
my friends would forget me.

When I quit crying, he said,
“In Louisiana you call this a bayou.
We call them canals. Some of ours
are man-made but they are the same.
I don’t want you to leave, but
if you do, I won’t forget you.”

He liked my Cajun accent—
my scraggly hair. He said,
“Boys should have long hair
and girls should have short.”

His father was a cross-country
truck driver. “If you leave,
one day I’ll jump in his truck
and I'll come knocking
on your door. I’ll find you,
even in Louisiana. I’m different.
I want to be free—like a bird
flying over this water. And
I want my own band.”

He told me of a group in England.
"People don't like them. Especially
their leader. Mick’s a real rebel.
Have you heard ‘a rolling stone
gathers no moss’? Well, that's me,"
he said, leaning back in the grass.
“I want to fly through the world
with no worries." His favorite song
was Heart of Stone."

I didn’t know who Mick Jagger was,
and I had never met a truck driver—
but I knew I had met someone
I would never forget. And that day,
on the banks of a Florida canal—
I learned to be still—I learned
to look out over the water—
 
And I fell in love for the very last time.

For Ronnie Van Zant, 1948-1977
   
  
   
 
 
 

Want to review or comment on this poem?
Click here to login!


Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Click here for your Membership!


Reviewed by Elizabeth Price 11/16/2006
I love the journey back to the beginning of the world: When we were born. lol. I know the world didn't start with us but your poetry reminds me of my own past and the bittersweet memories. Thoroughly enjoyed.
Reviewed by William DeVault 5/15/2006
I am very pleased with this, very pleased. I love the entire sense of it, the earnestness.
Reviewed by Tami Ryan 5/15/2006
Excellent work. Welcome to AuthorsDen!

Tami
Reviewed by Phillip William Allen 5/13/2006
Enjoyed the story line completely. Well put together
Reviewed by Peter Paton 5/13/2006
Linda
Very poignant and bittersweet write...
As my Pop used to say " Never say Never "...:)
Peter
Reviewed by Regis Auffray 5/13/2006
Wow! Quite the sharing, Linda. Thank you. Love and peace to you,

Regis
Reviewed by E T Waldron 5/13/2006
An exceptional poem! Thanks for sharing part of your bio,excellent work!

eT



Authors alphabetically: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Featured Authors | New to AuthorsDen? | Add AuthorsDen to your Site
Share AD with your friends | Need Help? | About us


Problem with this page?   Report it to AuthorsDen
© AuthorsDen, Inc. All rights reserved.