Bygone Days of Dixie (poem) by Susan K. de Vegter on AuthorsDen

Bygone Days of Dixie
by Susan K. de Vegter → (All Poetry by Susan K. de Vegter)
Rated "PG" by the Author.

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She recalls the silly, insidious jerk The nuance of pleasure from a mysterious quirk Her eyes that penetrate way across the room Smiles half-mooned with a passionate zoom Hair all a mess with blonde springing curls Draping around eyes of this sensitive girl Pulled to the sight toward a man in the shadow All trussed in a ponytail, his mane in an ebb flow Looks like a wolf...perish the thought "Me, am I Scarlette?" Dressed out and fraught! Knees shake to rattle...tremors to nerves Eyes bold and frightened...dancing on curves Hands reach...extend...floating the swirl Taffeta cinched on the bust of this girl Presenting the orbs of porcelain globes Seduced eyes of shadows beginning their probe Floats of two bodies graceful through crowds Clutching hands weaving as forms take a bow This beauty to all and a stranger to some Take up this waltz as rumors from tongues Chatter the beat as pulses festoon The character of dance and this free flowing room These two ever friends swirl smiles with their feet Swinging and turning to a waltz made of heat Stars seem to drift on fragrant bouquets For dances with Belles and Rebels that day The hoop skirts of lace and taffeta bows Jasmine in hair that gently repose The gray of a uniform worn by her Johnny The eyes of his lady...his bonnie blue Bonnie He takes in her smile...her nose like a pixie The waltzes of yesterday...bygones of Dixie � Susan K. de Vegter

Reviewed by Ronald Hull

Reviewed on March 19, 2006

So sad when they drove old Dixie down. Unfortunately, there was a dark, sad side to that glory that had to come forth.

Ron

Reviewed by Erin Kelly-Moen

Reviewed on March 15, 2006

I ended up gasping with a sob, Susan... Very compelling, your tale of an Age gone dead, and, didn't I feel it.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen

Reviewed by Sage Sweetwater

Reminiscience of the lure of the Old South, swelling and fading like the remote sweetness of a dream of yesteryear. To dress this way is part of the romance of the Bygone Days of Dixie, "the hoop skirts of lace and taffeta bows." I suppose this was written from the girl who knows, Susan.

Sage

Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado

The South shall rise again! :)

Well imaged, elegant write; very well done! BRAVA!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D

Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner

Susan,

The deep South lives in your eloquent verse; well done! Beautiful poem.

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.

Reviewed by Peter Paton

You immerse us in the magical history, pageantry and utter beauty of the Deep South, Susan !
A master weave of alluring wordage, imagery and passionate emotion, combine to make this a memorable and intoxicating walk down memory lane !
Hooray for Dixieland !
Peter

Reviewed by Felix Perry

Wonderful romantic images of the old South. Well done.

Felix