Southern Livin'

Hot, sticky and wet,

it calls to me yet.

I try to resist but it persists

this yearnin’, burnin’ need to return

to the land of roots, drawls and hoots.

Where lazy livin’ lingers

alongside frosted lady fingers

and debutantes flaunt beaus who sing ballads

with waists widened from chicken salads.

As much as I try fixin’

this yearnin’ for life below Mason Dixon,

I may as well give in

to a case of southern livin’.