Rhett Butler's Return
lola
write
hand
The Georgia winds thrashed to and fro,
On a groggy September night,
And hearing the rumbling of thunder so low,
Gave Scarlett O' Hara a fright.
Slamming the doors, the sun's last dust,
Her bonnet tossed from her head,
She looked in disgust at the night's hasty gust,
Could stomp about in such dread.
The last ray of sunlight, had kissed her head,
Just like a forbidden sir,
Who was never known of, thought, or spoke of,
How, like the night, did he stir!
She pouted against, the hazeling sky,
That brewed an angry light burst,
And with a sigh, she smiled and cried,
Of how he had not returned.
She deserved him, she did, she screamed to the wind,
And she cursed and she spat evermore,
She knew she was pinned: she had angered, and sinned,
And shook that man to the core.
But, how he haunted, haunted! her dreams every eve,
And oh, how she longed to be near!
Whether in tavern he lead, or in the street, heave,
drunkenness overcame pain's fear.
Now on a chaise lounge, she gladly passed out,
A peacock feather fan to her heart,
A knock firm and stout, send a chill throughout,
As she awoke, hastily, to a start.
Mammy! She shouted, "cannot be the raid?"
As her servant waddled down the steps,
No, ain't the raid! Said the porkly maid,
It is only Masta Rhett.
First and formost, this was my first GWTW poem, so don't be too harsh!
I'm not sure if this will be continued or not- for I did state the purpose, and show that he did actually "return"
To be continued??