The Mystique of Alabama


I don’t sail there it’s not my sea 

But fallen blood flows back to me      

Not the fools crimson carnival ride 

But dark Alabama, deep and wide 


From the home never lost I float unbound  

Forbidden, struck-blind in no common ground 

I seek his prize, of full-formed thought 

Uncontrived, unrehearsed, though battle fought


I don’t sail here it was never my sea

Yet I breathe in the ghost of bright memory

Tossed in the game – I slept through it then

Yet the Tide rolled on

And back home again

                          – Georgia Lee 

About georgialeesays

Award-winning journalist, editor and writer of multiple genres. Former Bureau Chief, Womens Wear Daily and W magazine. Past director, Ivy Hall, The SCAD Atlanta writing center. Vice President, programming for Atlanta Writers Club. Freelance writer/editor of every subject in the known universe. Lover of clean, clear writing -"It is my ambition to say in ten sentences what others say in a whole book." - Nietzsche. I teach yoga, meditation, in retreat settings. Seeker of truth and transcendence. Reincarnation of Edgar Allen Poe. "Life is but a dream within a dream within a dream" Write. Create. Learn. Dance. Yoga. Sleep. Dream.
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