by Melva Holliman Magnolia memories and Deep South dreams, Home is tattooed on my soul and racing through my veins.
by Melva Holliman Praying for May in the south, Fragrance of sweetness in the air, Calling to my inner love, A love, of blueberry, bitter to taste. Load up the car with buckets, Tell the kids we will play a game, Off to the field we charge, Welcome blueberry season again. No warning needed when they are in bloom, They beckon to their lovers, And lack defense against the enemy, A predator that can ruin their beauty. Those that survive multiple, They are more than a berry, A cake, tart, pie, Possibilities are many. Melva Holliman graduated from the University of Mississippi with a Bachelor's in English and Philosophy. She is currently a graduate student at the University of South Alabama working towards a Master's in English.