Margaret Mitchell: A Plot in the Past

Lyrics

[Intro]
Margaret, in your plot at Oakland,
under the oaks that saw 1949.

[Verse 1]
You typed on that Remington portable,
in the apartment at 979 Crescent Avenue,
words spilling like Atlanta rain in 1936.
Scarlett's fire, Rhett's shadow,
all from an ankle twisted in 1926.
John Marsh by your side,
reading drafts in the quiet evenings.

[Chorus]
Gone with the wind, your plot in the past,
buried deep in Oakland's clay,
where magnolias guard the Mitchell stone.
August 16, 1949, the car on Peachtree,
Hugh Gravitt's taxi, the screech and fall.
But your story lingers, pages turning still.

[Verse 2]
Harold Latham knocked in 1935,
you handed over the mess under the chenille spread.
Pulitzer in May 1937, heavy in your hands,
the flashbulbs popping like summer storms.
One book, Margaret, just one,
but it reshaped the South in ink.

[Bridge]
Now in Grant Park's edge, your resting place,
among the Victorian stones and creeping ivy.
The wind whispers through the arboretum,
carrying echoes of Tara's red earth.
I didn't want to be a writer, you said,
but here you lie, eternal in narrative.

[Verse 3]
Visitors come to your grave,
laying flowers on the marker dated 1900-1949.
John joined you in 1952,
silent companion in the soil.
The cemetery's paths wind like plot twists,
from your words to this quiet end.

[Outro]
A plot in the past, Margaret,
your legacy etched in Atlanta's heart.
Gone, but not with the wind.