Her name is Savannah and she's a bonfire that leaves the people blazed.
She likes her cocktails early and her planters punched spiked hard.
Ever local knows her and with the debutantes held in highest regard.
She wanders under the mossy trees of Bonaventure when a full moon is out.
She attracts forlorn beaus in minions with delicate peach lipped pout.
She likes to wear straw hats in the summer and read books all alone.
She wears high heels with the grace of a ballerina over cobble stone.
Her heart it glows like a rainbow as the rows of houses on King Street.
She wears a silver toe ring wrapped around her coral polished feet.
Her voice is George Street through and through with noble southern flair She buys fresh seafood from the market as she fiddles with wind swept hair.
She once sang with lady Chablis and loves to go to Vinnies for swing and blues.
She likes to wear sundresses and is a Monet in motion of magical pastel hues.
She is a member of St. Cecilia's Society but no one knows that she's a phoney.
The records of family membership was erased in the war but she has lots of money.
She smells of mint julips and the ocean and likes to sit in Chippewa square.
Sometimes she rides the carriage pulled by her favorite dappled gray mare.
She often tosses pennies in the fountain at Forsythe Park and makes a wish.
On Saturdays orders breakfast on Tybee Island by simply whispering "the usual dish."
She is pure southern charm with her crooked smile and long winded drawl.
She is not to proud for St. Pattie's Day to dress in green for a sinister pub crawl.
She is refined, demure yet feisty and daring. She can stop men dead in the tracks and laugh at them staring.
She is a beauty like the sweet magnolia in bloom.
Her essence is a lure like the finest of perfume.
She is southern as peaches, southern as comfort, southern as iced tea.
She is as unpredictable, irrational and confounded as the sea.
She makes slaves of men with the very cotton in her her fiber.
She is hip and flip and at times dark and daring in a world of cyber.
She is rugged and determined to make her way piano playing.
During the grand parties she leaves the corpses baying all a-flaying.
She is Miss Savannah boys so close your mouth and take her hand.
She is a plantation of her own nation and my my isn't she grand?