- Southern Nights
White lanterns flicker on our trellised wall,
like fireflies above a bayou bed.
My daughters tip toe with their nighties on
and pluck the blooming jasmine overhead.
The katydids are chirping on the lawn,
my wooden porch swing almost moves itself,
and humid air has muffled all the chimes
in grandpa’s mantle clock, upon the shelf.
Our neighbor’s windows glow behind the trees,
I hear his banjo play a well-known tune;
the weather vane is turning with the breeze,
in faded yellow like our southern moon.
We share a lemonade and the lounge chair,
Then sing a verse of each child’s favorite song,
And in the distance echoing our notes--
Louisiana softly sings along.
