On the Banks of Tombigbee

Bright red is the sun on the banks of Tombigbee,
A cool gentle breeze or'e the marshes is stealing.
Tis dusk and on the old balcony,
Waits fair Annabella, the flower of Tombigbee.
Her hair is bright as a ravens wing,
her eyes as blue as the sea.
She waits for her lover alone in the gloaming,
Alone she stands waiting her warrior to see.
Sweet Annabella on the banks of Tombigbee.

Hark what is that that stems the tide
As through the silver night it glides.
One blast upon the ships loud horn
And Annabella leaves her chamber.
Blythe as the nymphs that travel the sea,
Ran dear Annabella to the edge of Tombigbee.
Manys the shout o're the waters soft prattle
As gallant young soldiers return from the battle.
All hear the story of boys o're the lea
But Annabella stands waiting
on the banks of Tombigbee.

Her eyes are bright with unshed tears,
She stands by herself alone with her fears.
When by some fortunate stroke of luck
or as Providence had decreed,
Her lovers name was said o're and o're,
On the banks of the old Tombigbee.
She heard his name above all the clamor
of the boys returning home.
"You should have seen brave Jim go down
when missiles were howling all around."
"He didn't stay down for long," shouted one,
"He marched right up to the enemy gun."

-early attempts at poetry. The rest of this poem is now lost. This was penned after visiting the antebellum homes in Mississippi in 1979.