Walking in the French Quarter with colors all in bloom
Pigeons fighting long legged children vying for their room
Dodging jugglars hoops and flips in precisioned Rockette fashion
Look at all the clowns in paint festooned up and dashing
Saxaphones droning out the tunes of blues soft whispers
Street people crouch along muttering some strange vespar
Then there are the Tarot folks telling all life's secrets
Giving guests a birthday treat ...conquering deep confessions
Portraits done as horses wait with carriages all in blooms
Smiles in pink and sugared cheeks can make the rhythm zoom
Music sounds of the Big Easy festive all year through
Then me, alone.... searching for a visual to find you.
I felt like I was there, you are so masterful with description Susan, great poem.
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on February 6, 2008
You pretty much covered it all . . . The sone . . . New Orleans Lady . . . Sassy style that will drive you crazy . . . Gotta love it . . . I still prefer Sin City over The Big Easy . . .
Rosetta was born in 1909 as the youngest of ten children. The family had more laughter than money and neighbors would knock on their door to ask, "Can we come in and laugh, too?"
We Will Stone Him is a raw, unfiltered trauma memoir about surviving childhood abuse, emotional manipulation, and the lifelong wounds that follow. This true story marks the beginning of the Rising From The Ashes Trilogy, John Gambacorta and his survi
Ron
fee
wonderfully visual pen...
John
enjoyed much
peace & love be with you be with you
William
Love, Pierre
luv
et
Peace,
Dan
Ah.. Tippitino's
Walt
You took me there, to the glory days of Carnival ... powerfully imaged in verse and illustration. The Big Easy, isn't, anymore ... well done.
Stay safe, 'hear?
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla. :(