homage to a southern goddess
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dang, you are the finest little filly
I have seen in darn near a coon's age
you are deserving of showers of diamonds
like shooting stars in the sultry summer darkness
the gentle fingers of a cool breeze
like slow infiltration through the veins
of a mint julep on a lazy wooden swing
served by a bevy of buff oiled men
fanning you with immense palm fronds
while groveling to find a kneehold
firm enough to pay adequate homage