Magnolia bloom smiled at me
Through the glass and curtain.
Saved on that transplant tree
From dreams and songs I’m certain.  

Southern Belle I’ll never be, 
But loving things left dreamy
With flower scent and cotton rows
Fueled young hopes of handsome beaus.  

Years have cured me of such fancy,
But nature’s gift of that grafted tree
With her blooms, fall softly on a wistful
Eye watching the magnolia and the bee.