Whispers Of The Past

Born in the South, where traditions in our minds are engraved, With manners and grace, we start every day. Stand for your kin, uphold what is right, In the land of magnolias, under the starlight.Beneath the old oaks, where wild roses bloom, And gardenias and zinnias dispel all gloom. Lazy Sundays, under the Southern sun, Nights painted in hues, like a Twombly spun. Yet, times have shifted, the old ways seem lost, No neighborly love, but at what cost? Grandmothers raising the young, wondering where, The parents have gone, leaving them in their care. Gone are the gumbos, the jambalayas of old, Replaced by meals that are bought and sold. Family vacations, a memory of the past, Homebound we remain, as finances don't last. Are the days of old truly lost in the haze? Lord, save our families, bring back the Southern ways.