New Orleans is a royal woman. She is regal, majestic and strong. She is cloaked in purple velvet. She is a full moon shining down on the Mississippi. She captivates the visitors and enchants them. She keeps them there, and they submit to her. They celebrate her. She is something to be celebrated. She is warm and fiery. Her soul is felt in the air. It is felt in the wind, the sun’s kiss and the welcoming shade. New Orleans is the woman you must always respect. She has hard times, but with love she comes back. Stronger and more ready than ever. Her inhabitants–visitors or otherwise–pay tribute to her, for she is all inclusive and non-discriminatory. Music bolsters her soul, so she inspires, and they write it down. They sing, strum guitars, kiss trumpets and dance with trombones. All in dedication to her.
Without music, she will wilt. She will find herself in sun-bleached purple velvet and a crumbling magnolia crown. She becomes sad, angry and hurt. The music must continue playing–the sweet melodies, the continual tributes. When the tuba is blown and when the violin croons, she becomes vibrant again. When she is sung to, she returns the affection. She keeps the sun out, she keeps the laughter going and she keeps the parties strong.
New Orleans has many suitors. They all gift her with different music, some of them dedicate ballads to her. Others present her with jigs, screams of passion or wordless heartbeats. Every piece that is dedicated to her pleases her and feeds her soul. She welcomes them. She aches for them. She anticipates them. She is satisfied by them.
She is a blessing. She gives freedom to the people that visit and to those that stay. She encourages dancing. She encourages love. She encourages romance. She encourages laughter. She encourages joy. She wants her subjects to live freely and without reserve. New Orleans wants them to eat, and eat they shall. They shall eat roast beef po-boys, muffalettas, fried chicken and some beignets. They shall eat and eat and eat. They shall also drink! Drink in the morning, in the noon, in the night–when they are happy, sad, celebratory, or mourning…they shall drink. New Orleans wants her subjects to enjoy life, so life she gives them. All she asks for is a little bit of music to keep her soul strong.
That is not a big request, given the gifts she chooses to share. She gifts rainy days in the French Quarter, late-night summer walks down the river walk and small rain drops on a sunny day. She gives her subjects food, drinks and parties. She gives her subjects love. The populous always ends up finding something to write about.
New Orleans engulfs each person she encounters with a hug with her big, warm arms and hardy laugh. She is the epitome of royalty, love and magic. People have come, and people will continue to come, to pay tribute to her. Her reign is far too great.
