Poems by Patricia Fleming

Lizzie was a gator wrestler,
bred on Louisiana's swamps.
Her daddy taught her how to hunt,
she was all the son a man could want.

She had the best aim in the parish,
a true legend in those parts.
She was known to have the sharpest eye
and the bravest, honest heart.

When hunting season rolled around
there was no doubt where she would be,
in her airboat on the fetid swamp
with her rifle on her knee.

She'd hang her putrid chicken bait
in all her favorite spots
and by nightfall she'd meander back
with the load of gators that she caught.

Yes, Lizzie was a tough ole broad
who had little time to play.
She had to make her quota
to earn her righteous pay.

She lived a rather lonely life,
a safe distance from the fray.
While her dirty nails and gritty smell
kept any suiters far away.

But then she'd sit upon her porch
in sultry evenings on the bayou
and reminisce about her Noah
who was once her love so true.

But Noah finally called it quits
and let dear, sweet Lizzie go,
when in response to his proposal
she returned a sorry, "No."

But Lizzie claimed no sad regrets.
This was the life that Lizzie chose.
It was the life that she was good at,
the only life she'd ever known.

So, from August to November
her belly was on fire
hunting down the biggest gators
in the vast and muddy mire.

She went toe to toe with all the men
who claimed to be the best.
But in the end, they all agreed
she far out-hunted all the rest.

But in secret Lizzie had her dreams.
She'd spent too much time alone
and longed to have a soul mate
to share her bayou home.

She was still a woman in her soul
and craved some virile company,
catching gators was quite thrilling
but to snare a man served other needs

Lizzie saw that days were rushing by
and she was running out of time
and her need for hunting gators
was not all that filled her mind.

So, Lizzie let her gators go
and decided to retire
and began her search for the perfect mate
to set her heart on fire.

And then it came to pass that Lizzie
stopped chasing gators everyday
But ensnared the perfect gentleman
to help her pass her days away.

So now you might see Lizzie
as the twilight settles in
not in the company of gators
but with her spry old gentleman.

On some early autumn evening
with a soft, cool, whispering breeze,
do you ever sit upon your porch
and search your memories for me?

And when you're sorting through old photographs
now ripped and faded over time,
do you ignore those images of me
and quickly chase them from your mind?

Am I someone you've forgotten,
who you pretend does not exist?
Is my face one of tribulation
instead of one that's sadly missed?

Do you ever say my name out loud
when telling tales of family days?
Or is my name a dirty word to you
like a shameful secret tucked away?

Does your daughter wonder who I am?
Someone she doesn't know?
Do you say it doesn't matter now,
it was so very long ago?

Well even though it's decades later,
a single day does not pass by
that thoughts of you invade my heart
and compel my soul to cry.

And of all the things I've missed the most
it was the way you made me laugh
at all those family dinners
that are cemented in the past.

I'm in my final chapter now
and time is rushing on
and I wonder if you'll grieve for me
when I'm forever gone.

But I hope that on some Autumn eve
when you can reminisce awhile,
that for a moment you will think of me
and maybe even smile.