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“Whispers of Jasmine”
I sit here alone on the old country fence.
I listen closely to the wind that blows through the wild Oak trees around me, with a few Burch trees in between.
The scent of sunshine on my face, and the warmth and glow on my cheeks.
I watch a little dog hop up and down, with the biggest smile on its face chasing butterflies from place to place. Never caught one.
The time of its life it has this day.
Never missing a step, as he slowly slips away.
Into the horizon, he disappears like a ghost that was never there.
The hat on my head goes well with my Sunday best.
Today belongs to the Lord as the rest do too.
I wonder if he made this day for me.
Even if he didn't, I find much joy in it on this lovely day.
I sit alone on this old country fence.
I can sometimes smell my Mama's Sunday dinner.
Carried like a letter to my little nose.
A special delivery to me directly.
I wonder if it's done or all least near ready?
I care to have some mashed potatoes, please.
They are my favorite, she makes them just for me.
I always share with the ones I love.
Simply because they are what I am thinking of.
My Mama and my Daddy too, always have smiles on their faces.
Before and after grace.
Thinking the Lord for this bounty.
Mama is the best cook in the county.
Her apple pie is the number one, with a Blue Ribbon showing this.
She has the best recipes, no one wants to miss.
Summer Sundays in Georgia are the best.
I speak this loudly in my mind, I whisper this out loud for the wind to hear and blow.
I met the little hummingbird with these words I said. I will whisper to nature as I lay my sleepy head tonight.
I am Jasmine and I dream of this place with delight.
Bless all that inhabit here, Like a song not written in stone just music you hear in night with stars.
Dreams will come like carnivals and bazaars.
This day mine I claim it, and the night too.
As I am Jasmine, the whispers you hear are from me they come in loud and clear my dear.
Soon the Moon will take over the night as the Sun does this bright afternoon.
Good night one and all, The whispers you'll hear are from now until Fall.
Of all I said was just a dream, I set alone in my prison cell.
Can't remember the list of things I've done.
My sunrises and sunsets are the same with bars in between.
I will probably never see that place in my mind again.
My fault, but I can't remember the drug-fueled night.
I dream a million nights from now and hear whispers of Jasmine from my youth.
The voice that was mine in my tender youth and set in innocence.
Goodbye, my sweet Jasmine, I was you and now I'm me rotting prison dreaming of being free.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
