Thursday, August 08, 2013

V. 2, #133: August 8, 2013

My Bayou Baby bounces through the swamp,
just singin' and a-dancin' as she goes.
She shakes her tail and gives that foot a stomp,
and where she found that rhythm, no one knows;

She's got a voice could charm a crocodile
and bring a N'awlins gator plumb to tears.
There's Portuguese pearl inlaid in her smile,
and hair like Spanish gold around her ears;

No fine Parisian dame could teach her how
to hang her dress or better fill her skirt,
and it's near more than Heaven should allow,
the thoughts I get when I peek down her shirt!

I'm hungry for her every single day;
at night, I eat her up like etouffee.

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