Thoughts drift south,
Jack Daniel’s country
where the weather
suits my mood.
On a barstool
I park my bones
Inhale the Jack, magnolia —
sweet, sweet surrender.
A woman alone
at a corner table —
darkest eyes,
brightest smile,
auburn hair
to her shoulders.
I think, Why not?
Our eyes meet,
I saunter towards her
and know, from the look she gives,
she’s heard it all before.
“Ma’am, It would give me
the greatest pleasure
to buy you a drink
and share your table for a while.
If I can’t keep you smilin’
I promise,
I’ll take my conversation elsewhere.”
She said with the utmost
southern grace, charm
and hospitality,
“You’ve got ten minutes.
I don’t like to be disappointed.”
I fell into her raven pools,
somewhere, I got lost there.
I don’t know my way too well
around these parts
but, I’d swear she lured me
with some kind of mojo.
My eyes refused to look away
from ruby lips (so sensual)
as they spoke words of love
in a voice
of the sweetest, southern honey,
words…dripping…
tantalizing.
The evening passed,
holding hands across the table.
I was enthralled and enchanted.
Where it went from there
I refuse to say
(gentleman’s code of honor).
Such beauty
I have never known.
It keeps coming back
to haunt me.
My thoughts
were only passing through
but, in my dreams I see
the darkest eyes,
brightest smile,
hear her voice —
Tennessee honey.
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