The Story of Savannah

Darn it! I meant to post this yesterday! It's something I wrote to describe the special "relationship" I have with with the city of Savannah. I've lived in northern metro-Atlanta all my life, but I feel that I did a great deal of growing up there in Savannah. It's a place that I have known since a child and it has now actually become a part of me. This is not at all one of my best writings nor one of my favorites. It sums up what I am trying to say, but the words just aren't quite right. Maybe I'll do some modifying, but for now here is what I've got...

The Story of Savannah

This is the story of Savannah; her tale I will share
From her very founding to the time I have spent there
Savannah, the old port city of the south
Standing proudly through the ages by the river’s mouth
The mighty river that flows to the Atlantic Sea
That beckoned the British, Oglethorpe and his Trustees
Who came here to settle along Yamacraw Bluff
Leaving behind them the seas so rough
The Yamacraw Tribe showed them this land
Of which they all agreed was indeed very grand
Men working and building until they were worn
And so it became that this city was born
The men had a plan; laid the town out in squares
That grew into her present state, standing still so fair

So much history lies within her sacred ground
So much of her past still lingers around
The American Revolution, for the independence we sought
Generals Washington and Greene’s men stood here and fought
The pirates docked their ships to come here plundering
Later and again more canons were heard thundering
As the Civil War reached Georgia’s coast
And the soldiers in forts set up their post
The old merchant sailors sailed up to River Street
And today’s commercial sailors, the city still greets
The past lives here; it can still be felt
The spirits of those who had here once dwelt
And the actions of greatness and those that are grim
The haunted city of ghosts and I walk among them

I played on her beaches as a young girl
And watched the tides rise then fall and the waves swirl
It’s where I searched for shells along the sandy shore
And where I brought in loads of sand dollars and then went to find more
I played in the old forts and peered over their wall
And ran up the spiral staircase of the lighthouse so tall

As I’ve grown up over the long years
Here I’ve spent much time, in both happiness and tears
I’ve walked among the ancient oaks with family and friends
I’ve walked through all the squares, beginning to end
And walked under the hanging moss clinging to the trees
All alone in the evening of a warm summer breeze
It’s where I strolled along the gardens in Forsyth Park
And sat by its spurting fountain until well after dark
I’ve walked numerous times through Bonaventure’s gate
And entered the peaceful world in its eternal state
I walked among the graves and the angels of stone
And read the names and dates of those who’ve passed on

This place has been a retreat for my broken heart
A place to shed tears and vow a new start
A safe place to remember friends that have passed on
A place to remember everything now gone
I awakened my friend’s memory, wrote her name in the sand
Then watched the waves as they washed it away
Realizing that, like her, it could not stay

It’s a place of great laughter and sincere smiles
A place for eating seafood by the piles and piles
Then afterwards sampling the pubs and the bars
Even a few nights of one-too-many beneath the stars
It’s where I took my friend from the desert to see the sun rise
For the first time she saw crabs frolicking in the tides
The two of us in search of new things for her to see
The marshes, the alligators, and the walk through tropical trees

And it’s where I first met him along the river that night
Like the beauty of the city, he entranced my sight
My heart soared as he stood so near
I can see it all so clearly as if it were now and here
The sweet smell of the candy shop floating in the air
All was right in my world; I didn’t have a care
As we talked and listened to the music’s lively tune
Beneath the shrinking day and the growing moon
But that’s all in the past; our relationship has stalled
Now he’s only a Savannah memory left to recall

I don’t know what my next memory here will hold
Or what turn of events may happen to unfold
The next time I visit the city that my heart holds
Or what new adventure I will have to be told
But I can’t wait to start another chapter when I return
To create a brand new tale in the town for which I yearn

Thus far is Savannah’s story, beginning in the year 1733
Through the long ages all the way down to me
The same as I am a part of her story and she is part of mine
One day I will pass, leaving with her a piece of me behind
For I know Savannah, over me, will surely outlast
I, too, will be a Savannah memory, am imprint of her past