~ Louisiana, She’s A Callin’ Me ~

~ Egret draped in her white angel wing cape ~ bjf © fisheye fun

~ Swamp Ghosts ~ 
River dark hauntingly beautiful bayou night, star of the evening is but her only light. While dreaming children are safe in their beds. In the swamp walks ghosts of the dead. Those folks who did not do right in life, they walk forever as if in front of a knife. They appear, to not frighten, but to warn, throughout the night until the light of morn. The gambler knows not why his cards he threw away or why he ran home in order to pray. The thief knows not why the bag of loot he dropped, but someone told him “this has to stop!” The drunk knows not why his booze he suddenly poured down the drain. The prostitute knows not why she left the bordello in the pouring rain. By daylight the hearts of those people changed. What took place, what happened, you may ask? It was just the swamp ghosts doing their tasks! ~ bonnie j. flach © ~

~ Lovin’ Louisiana ~ 
Beautiful bayou she’s wearing a garland of myrtles of crepe. Great egret’s draped in her white angel winged cape. Over little waterway bridges carefully do I cross, my eyes take in magnolias veiled in lacy Spanish moss. Zipping through piney woods are exquisite dragonflies. Peaking across murky waters are sneaky alligator eyes. Alongside the railway tracks wild honeysuckle grows. Down in the delta’s where hurricane winds blow. Inside the swamp the insects buzz and mosquitoes bite. At night lightning bugs showoff their tiny twinkling lights. Live oaks stretch out their arms to embrace the falling rain. Stately old homes appear at the end of canopied tree lanes. On the mighty river lazy paddle wheeler’s go by, up and down her sparkling tributaries herons and pelicans fly. Off in the distance I hear gospel singing & plenty of “Amen” shouts. Horses with their cozy carriages are running all about. Beautiful bayou she’s wearing a garland of myrtles of crepe. Great egret’s draped in her white angel winged cape. Over little waterway bridges carefully do I cross, my eyes take in magnolias veiled in lacy Spanish moss. ~ bonnie j. flach © ~

~ Charming Creole & Cajun Country ~ 
Cattails growing inside a ditch, southern night skies as black as pitch. Cajuns & Creoles speaking “parlez vous francais” waters muddy with soil of red clay. Folks have surnames like Lafayette & Broussard and first names such as Pierre & Beauregard. They say “Parish” while we say “County.” Louisianians thank the Lord for all of her bounty. Wildflowers alongside of the roads in spring, meadowlarks & mockingbirds in the thickets sing, water lilies with purple or white blooms so wide, careful underneath the alligator does hide. There is white wine to go with every dish of shrimp, gumbo, jambalaya & crawfish. Many rivers, lakes & bays can be seen of course there is Baton Rouge & New Orleans. Louisiana she has lots going on, of course to say New Orleans proper it’s “Nouvelle Orleans” in summer temperatures are searing & sweat runs down your back, I still always have fun and I’ll always come back ~ bonnie j. flach © ~

~ Next Stop Lafayette ~ 
Cypress land bayou, next stop Lafayette, les Cadiens (Cajun) country, Louisiana, you bet, Creole culture and the traditions of the Acadians. Once you’ve been there, you’ll go there again. Steamy summers in swamps and lands of marsh, but the livin’ is easy, folks are kind and never harsh. If you think you know their secret, if you think you have a hunch, Love is the answer and “Bon Dieu sait, moi j’ai un tas” Good Lord knows, I have a bunch. ~bonnie j. flach ©~ the French quote is from the Cajun song lyrics “Jolie Blon” I could not find the name of the author. Would you know it Jean-Claude?

~ Haunted Bayou Plantation ~ Where reed shadows end, nightmares shape ragged souls. Trembling phantom grasps an ink-faded manuscript and night torch, as he walks through the mansion cold. What dark secrets the manuscript holds, what secrets it holds. Some say it is the names of slaves bought & sold, he’s the evil owner who must pay the price for his vice, to spend eternity alone in the horrific structure he built, tortured in the endless pain of guilt ~ bjf ©