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Rated: E · Poetry · Cultural · #2249835
poetry about the ole south
The Grand Lady

Majestic oak trees shelter ruins.

Grey moss hanging like shrouds,

protecting remains of a grand old lady.

Versailles was once "The Pride of the South".

The original owner,
a wealthy planter,

traveled estate gardens of Europe
flower cuttings for treasured plots

remains are sad lost vines of Vienna

At his daughter’s wedding
large Chinese spiders spun webs.
blew gold and silver dust


A broken arch stands in the walls,

revealing a hollow light. Look closely.

The ghosts of tattered soldiers 

carry each other with gentle trust.

If you listen, you can hear their prayers.

“Lord, take me home to lighten the load”.

This is a land where men watered

the oaks with blood of courage.

By Kathie Stehr
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2249835-The-Grand-Lady