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If Mississippi’s in you,

It’ll always be that way;

It matters not how far you go,

Or how long you stay.

If Mississippi’s in you,

It always plays a part;

In how you live and move and breathe,

And in every notion of the heart.

If Mississippi’s in you,

It’s in you through and through;

It’s who you are and how you be,

And it’s in everything you do.

If Mississippi’s in you,

There is some special glow;

A different something down inside,

That all the home folks know.

If Mississippi’s in you,

It’ll always be that way,

From the time you enter in the world,

Till in the grave you lay,

Every true Mississippian,

Can surely have it said;

“I’m Mississippi born,

I’m Mississippi bred,

And when I die,

I’ll be Mississippi dead.”

Poet Commentary:

From the Lair of the Sable Lit Reviews Blog Mistress:

I hope you enjoyed the fine sample of Patricia Neely-Dorsey’s poems as much as I did.

Please go back and re-read often for they are sure to delight everytime.

If you’d like to know about this fine poetess please click any of the banners of her book posted with each poem or visit the following links:

http://www.blackplanet.com/patricianeelydorsey3/

http://kuumbaartisticexpressions.ning.com/profile/PatriciaNeelyDorsey

Also, the book can be purchased at www.reeds.ms/books.asp

When I went off to school in Boston,

I realized why Southerners have a slower pace;

When the weather’s not so frigid out,

There is no need to race.

When the weather’s nice and toasty,

You can take time to slowly walk;

When you don’t feel you’ll freeze to death,

With your friends, you can casually talk.

Northerners don’t really know what it is,

To take a leisurely stroll;

They’re always rushing here or there,

‘Cause the weather’s just too cold.

Poet Commentary:

There’s nothing like a Southern man,

He’s a man that you should know;

He’s one to whom you’ll find no equal,

Anywhere you go.

He has a sweet, molasses talk

And a slow, smooth, gliding walk.

He’s got strong, firm hands that let you know,

Real work is nothing new;

He has no problem with the fact,

That he should provide for you.

There are certain kinds of values

This man is sure to hold

His love of home and family

Is sure to not grow cold.

He’ll deeply love his mother

It’s a bond that’s always there

All throughout his life this man

WIll show her tender care.

He’s one that you can count on,

To do the manly things;

He’ll change the tire and check the oil,

And fix the back yard swing.

But underneath a tough exterior,

A gentle soul lies too;

He’s one who’ll rock the baby,

And even cook a meal or two,

On Sundays he’ll sit beside you singing

On the same church pew.

There’s nothing like a Southern man,

He’s a rare and special kind;

If you look forever anywhere,

He’s the best you’ll ever find.

Poet Commentary:

Our Southern men are one of our most valuable natural resources.

What else is there to say?? If you enjoyed this poem, you can purchase the whole book at www.reeds.ms/books.asp.

If the baby has the sniffles,

Or an all-out whooping cough;

If your throat is sore or neck’s in pain,

And you need to throw it off;

If your chest is tight or or breathing’s bad

From some sort of pollution;

The answer’s simple for country folk,

There is but one solution.

Vick’s Salve is what they call it,

It’s thought to cure most anything;

It’s used for any malady,

From arthritis to bee sting,

It’s the all purpose remedy,

And one you must endure;

If you voice any type of complaint,

It’s Vick’s for you for sure.

On chest or back

Or up the nose,

Even a teaspoon or two;

Country folks believe, without a doubt,

It’ll cure what’s ailing you.

Poet’s Commentary:

A real country po’folk’s breakfast

Is in these days quite rare,

It’s certainly not your typical

Bacon and eggs type affair.

There’d be crispy fried chicken,

WIth all the parts there to eat;

The usual ones represented,

Plus the neck, back and feet.

There might be some country ham,

But not the thin sterile kind;

It’s the thick, salty slices

From the smokehouse you’ll find.

If you’re lucky, there’s rabbit,

From a recent hunt trip;

With juicy, brown gravy

That drips from your lips.

There would probably be rice,

With sugar and butter of course;

And big chunky biscuits

That could choke any horse.

What goes in the middle,

Is anyone’s guess;

Some molasses or syrup

Would sure pass the test.

But, most want preserves

From the cook’s vast store;

From the past summer’s canning,

In flavors galore.

The milk would be powdered,

And straight from a box;

There’s likely no juice,

’til opportunity knocks.

But, we all know one thing

That’s sure to be had;

It’s a jug full of Kool-AId,

And the flavor is

Red.

Poet Commentary:

photo courtesy of myjon

I love to hear the stories,

That my mama and daddy tell;

Sometimes, we’ll just sit a while,

And they’ll talk for a spell.

They’ve told me of how hard it was,

For them to get to vote;

They’d go down to the courthouse door,

And there would be a note;

“Out To Lunch” or “No One’s In,”

“Come Back Another Day,”

In all kinds of ways you wouldn’t believe,

They were turned away.

Even when they did get in,

There were more hurdles they had to cross;

They’d be asked to answer questions

That would put anyone at a loss,

“How many bubbles in a bar of soap?”

“How many pennies in that jar?”

How many raindrops to fill a barrel?”

“How many miles to a star?”

It seems almost incredulous

That this was how it was;

But, believe you me, no matter what,

I vote, now , just because.

Poet commentary:

As soon as you begin reading Patricia Neely-Dorsey’s book of poetry dedicated to her life in Mississippi, you immediately know you can’t do her lyrical rhymes the injustice of reading them silently.

Her words are meant to be read aloud, each syllable savored as they roll along your tongue. If you are not southern you will long to be in short order as you read about the Southern men, the fine Southern ladies, the Southern foods, the Southern skies and the Mississippi heat on your back. You can almost feel it as you drink in every verse.

Thank you Lord for I am only two generation removed from this Southern charm of which Neely-Dorsey speaks. My grandparents hail from the Georgia Peach. While it’s not the fragrant land of the Mississippi Magnolia, I still recall some of the memories Neely-Dorsey offers her readers as a treat.

Patricia Neely-Dorsey’s poetry reminds me of a chap book I stumbled upon in a public reading room. It was not a bestseller and its cover wasn’t glossy, as a matter of fact the clerk said I could have it. I was nine and I read that poetry book from cover to cover. I laughed and I cried. I cherished that book for years. Now that book has a companion in Patricia Neely-Dorsey’s Reflections of a Mississippi Magnolia: A Life in Poems. A volume, I’m glad she shares with us. The volume of audible candy earns 5/5 Sable Seals of approval.

Publisher: Grant House Publishers

Price: $15.00

Format: Print

As a special treat, I will be posting some of my favorite Neely-Dorsey poems all week long, but today is truly special as you will get to hear the Poet read her signature poem Southern Life… Please click below: