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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2249835-The-Grand-Lady
Rated: E · Poetry · Cultural · #2249835
Poetry about the ole south and the plantations.
The Grand Lady

Majestic oak trees shelter ruins.

Grey moss covers it like a shroud,

protecting remains of a grand old lady.

Versailles once "The Pride of the South".



The owner, a wealthy planter,
searched gardens of Europe,
brought exotic flowers home
for an Eden to call his own.

In ruined memories are vines of Vienna.
Once a
t his daughter’s wedding,
Chinese spiders spun fairytale webs,
slaves 
blew gold and silver into netting.

.

A broken arch stands in the walls,

reveals a hollow light. Behind veils of dust,
ghosts of tattered Confederate soldiers,

carry each other with gentle trust.



If you listen, you can hear their prayers.

“Lord, take me home, lighten my load”.

This is a land where men watered

the oaks with blood of courage.



By Kathie Stehr
Edited July 12, 2021



The history of the Antebellum South is full of tragedy and pain for so many slaves. Yet, I have always been fascinated with the beauty of the old plantations. They were quite spectacular. But there is nothing that can redeem the cruelty of that way of life. The above poem is based on one that only has the ruins of an exotic garden.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2249835-The-Grand-Lady