SOUTHERN FRIED....

Summer Strom is my contribution to my romance poetry challenge, please read the challenge in my last poem "I'm Goin In The House" and help us celebrate The excitement and beauty of romance


Summer Storm
By La Belle Rouge

South Carolina
August 1863


A sultry, Carolina day in August
gives way to a hazy, steamy night
The company of friends is so congenial
at my dinner party, and what a sight........
All those many handsome Gentlemen
some fine officers dressed in gray
All seated at my dinnin table
at the end of this swelterin day

The Gents gather in the billiard room
while we Ladies retire to the salon
Yes the sherry and talk flow as freely
as feminine laughter, and alas I know anon
I’ll be a little tipsy as the night goes on
And from the gross amount of brandy
those Gents consume mid their cigars
they’ll be feelin just fine before midnight
mid insufferable talk of politics and wars

It’s gettin hotter than unholy hades
Not a decent breeze is stirrin a tal
When the other ladies finally retire to bed
I sneak down the stairs through the hall
Apparently their men have joined them
save one last night owl in a Colonel’s uniform
I spy him in the armchair as I tip toe out
The wind picks up and it smells like a storm

Just enough time, think I, to myself
for a late night walk down by the Santee River
the night wind blows wrecklessly up my skirt
causin me a little thrill of a shiver
The river and I, true , old friends for life
Many an hour I’d spent by his side
through girlhood and finally widowhood
As innocent virgin and then blushin bride
I’d stroll along his banks, my arm entwined
in the strong one offered so gallantly
I miss the arms and hands of a man
and the fire of his hot lips devourin me

Damn this war, I think, as a tear
slides down ivory cheek from an emerald eye
So many men will never be comin home
Many sweethearts, wives and mothers will cry
Using my silk fan furiously tryin to cool my face
Santee beckons me join him, in this deserted place
I glance around, not a soul in sight, so I feel free
to drop the hated, hot hoopskirt tormentin me
The wind is whippin hard against my legs
and liftin my lace petticoat above my knees
so I drop it too with only pantaletts left
covering curvaceous legs created to please

I halt then, listen quietly and well
thinking I hear a twig break in the woods
But even with the wind it’s still hot as hell
unlace and lose my bustier, wonderin if I should
The full moon is bright behind a driftin cloud
and I hear another noise in the bushes
This time I realize it is much too loud
to be a little night creature, perhaps a man?
Well I’ll give him something to think about
like the torment of a temptress’es demands
Now only a cotton chemie and pantalettes remain
along with high heeled boots and stockins
so I, oh so slowly, peel them off my feet and legs
knowing the effect on him will be shockin

Slidin the chemie seductively to the ground
feelin the brave breeze caress full breasts
and next the sweaty pantaletts bite the dust
Does he think he could withstand my test?
I pull all the pins from copper tresses
and they softly fall down ‘round my waist
I hear a masculine moan from the woods
and I know that Colonel wants a taste
of long legs, soft hills and moist valleys
bared shoulders, perfumed feminine neck
I wonder how long ‘til he shows himself
for his mind and body must be a wreck

I stick a toe into the water, shiver and step in
I glance like a vixen, back over my shoulder
to examine those rustling bushes again
The metallic sound of sword being laid aside
I think he knows, I know he’s hidin there
and his hot loins have been Southern fried
And since first and foremost I am always a lady,
I won’t tell you about the breakin storm
You can use your imagination to finish this story
let’s just say.... it was a storm beyond the norm

2/7/2008 La Belle Rouge

“Poetry, Passion’s Flame”


Music "Ballade Pour Adeline"