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By coujeaux Date: 2003 Mar 15 Comment on this Work [[2003.03.15.23.19.12267]] |
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Mum, I write to you fascinated by these Cajuns; they're as comfortable as we, Arriving in Louisiana I heard so many stories about them, oddball as could be. Legends of voodoo sheilas and alligator wrestling; it sounded like Aussie lore, And yet I've never been greeted more warmly or seen people born to adore. I admit I miss our shrimp on the barbie; they mix theirs in this curious stew, A rather delightful delicacy they call gumbo, built upon a sauce entitled roux. There are tributaries called bayous, swamps also; it's rather humid as well, Odd-looking birds they refer to as "mosquitos" that drive them mad as Hell. I chuckle at their colloquialisms, they at my accent; but never in bad taste, Though between us this Chicoree coffee they serve strikes me as a paste. I could ramble on forever about Mardi Gras nights and women unto beads, However, I'm quite sure that's more information than mother really needs. So many lessons I've learned here, from the language to the joie de vivre, Never was more popular bloke at the fais do-dos; who would ever believe? Wish I could bring arid charm of the outback here; life would be so grand, If you had as many Hurricanes as I have tonight I think you'd understand. I've covered just about everything I wanted to say; here's to you from me, I'm in good hands here, just so you know; Mick Stewart, signing off: Aiiiee! |