copyright KG 2000

She was the kind of woman who brought conversation back from a lost art. A woman who would engulf you in the music of her voice and who would seduce you with a turn of a phrase. She was the kind of woman that was everything southern and wore her matriarchy like old Savannahian money. She was like a romance novel in a walking form of sensuality with a look of mischief in her eye. She was a bit of scarlet and was clever in her diversions. She would enthrall you in a tale and leave you wanting to vacation in her dreams.  She had a smooth satin drawl that was as long as the lazy delta rivers and would hold you spellbound telling her tales as if you had lived them. She was a reveler, a storyteller and an enchantress.       She was the kind of woman that her beauty was transcended only by the imagination of poetic writers and dreamers She had legs that stretched to the moon and azure eyes that sparkled like sapphires. She had more curves to her voluptuous body than the bending branches of moss covered live oaks. She was tall, strong, feminine, supple, sumptuous, sexing, flowing and satin finished. She was powdered, perfumed and stirred the air with her casual sashay. She would leave you weak-kneed as she strolled by causing hearts to race and faces to flush. She was a like magnolia breeze blowing in from the sweet river marshes. She was the kind of woman who tease, touch and caress you then whisper in your ear leaving you craving for more.       She was a belle with a touch of back woods bobcat. She was a woman who dressed in that southern aristocracy like yesterday's fashion. She was old southern money but lived like nouveau riche. She was smart, quick-witted, charming, alluring, captivating, and involving, revolving, evolving, and wickedly funny. She defined social grace and was forever the hostess in the evening of grand events of black tie and gowns. She held court as she swept through the elite of southern nobility. She was refined but had a bar room crassness that was draped in gentile manner.       She was the kind of woman that was any man or woman's dream. She embodied the ideal of perfection. She was like a long raging river that came to an end in a peaceful  lake of clear still water. She would roll you, hold you, comfort and caress you but never love you. She would bring you to the pinnacle of pleasure and leave to awake alone. She would promise you undying fidelity and scurry off with the next fancy of the moment. She was wanted and craved and yet never had. She was like a hot July day and a cool December night all rolled into one  She never lacked the company of any a suitor but never held one special. She was all things to all those who ever encountered her. She was the kind of woman whose perfection had only one flaw.  She was alone.

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