I wished upon a star one night and your face it did appear,
For I was in a dream quite deep and far from where you stood, not near.
I looked at you across the Bijou,
And wanted to bring you close.
But the saint of darkness said to me,
It’s Voodoo brother that you’re messing with,
And not the Holy Ghost.
The gators were all swimming around, and the coons were in the leaves,
The fireflies lit up the dark black night like twinkle lights on Christmas eve.
Snakes were hanging from the cypress like licorice in a candy store.
Cicada was singing, the crickets chimed in and the chorus it took a hold once more.
It’s a Southern night somewhere down by the berm on the old mill creek,
The place to be on Saturday eve when you have no place to sleep.
Where dreams of love smell like jasmine and sweet summer wine,
And the stars in heaven look down upon two lovers both entwined.
Atop the lives of those that are searching for a yellow moon and a sweetheart to hold,
On the shimmering waters that rushed by this, my sweet Carolina home.
Now as the years have passed me by, I still often think of you,
The nights when love was in our hearts and the smell of your perfume.
How we would wrestle in the backseat of that old rusty car back then,
And end up lying together out of breath, staring at the bright shining stars within.
Time is a wonder and a horrible thing as it erases days, takes memories away and leaves hearts wanting the past once again.
But in all the years that we had, and the days that are now long gone,
I still think of you, those warm summer nights, and times when we were young.
Such a beautiful story! Time can be both a blessing and a curse. Thank you for sharing this piece. I could imagine what it would feel like to be sitting by the Bijou on a warm summer night. A beautiful feeling when it is 30 degrees out side my house!!!
Thank you JoAnna. Fortunately I now live in Arizona so those cold winds which you are referring to have a hard time reaching the Desert. Now summer is quite different LOL
I have family in Mesa and visited one summer as a young girl. My uncle laughed uncontrollably when I asked, “How do the tires not melt out here?” It is brutal in the summer.
Excellent my brother, love every word of it.
Johnny, aside from your usual poetic brilliance there was the tenderness of love you shared with somebody else who occupied a special place in your heart. You have painted very vivid images of the South which is a part of our great country I know little about except what I pick up from Larry, and yourself.
Like the great city you live in it is unique and special from its cuisine to its landscape. Like New York, the people in the south are a great example of the region’s color and heritage
Johnny, I agree with you 100%!
I love the memories this stirs up. Well done my friend
Thanks buddy. You can certainly see what I was all about as a young man!
Johnny – Your message is universal as we all look back on past relationships when a song or a smell or some other cue Sparks our memories. Thanks for sharing – loved it.
Thank you Len. It’s all about the senses. Although I enjoy writing about love and a youthful past, I am more inclined to look deeper into life writing works like the piece prior to this “Lifted Up On High” and “Departing Rains” or “One” where the words hold a much deeper underlying meaning. I hope you are well. I always look forward to new posts from your typewriter… JJ
Johnny – My wife fell on 1/5 and broke the ball of her shoulder. So, I have been nursing her back to health. Don’t know when I will be able to start writing again. I miss the creativity and hope I can get back to it soon. But glad to see you writing again.