Not so secret haikus

I have decided there is no reason to keep these haikus a secret. I am hoping it turns into something, but if not I will post for the entertainment anyway.
Here are the roughly 30 haikus I have written so far on Charleston.
I have only missed one day of writing a haiku. So I am back. If you have any ideas on Charleston topics I could address in three lines please let me know.

Cross the Ravanel,
her white-fringed curtains open,
unveiling the pearl.

As the Angel Oak
sprawls its ancient gnarled limbs,
it cradles babies.

On the languid days
of summer, sweet tomatoes
blow up in my mouth.

Married Shrimp and Grits
Never leave each other’s side
Without a quick peck.

Adorning windows
with pink pansies to brighten
The eyes of houses.

Woven history,
The sweetgrass baskets are made
With stories to tell.

Welcome pineapples,
You look lovely with your crown
of leaves set on straight.

Down cobblestone streets,
Traverse the Holy city
With a bumpy ride.

Bustling with life,
Peddling treasures never
Beats a, “Hey y’all.”

Pausing at the crepe
myrtle, the rose cardinal
breathes petal sweetness.

Summer thunderstorms
Clapping for the heat to whisk
It away til morn.

Wrap-around porches
Where all kids can see our legs
And drips from iced tea.

Awash in pastel
The paint of Rainbow Row is
sudsy Angel bath.

Our sugar water
Tea attracts the kisses of
Hummingbirds and bees.

Read my Isle of
Palms and foretell the sunsets
To remind you: Now.

Cheek-to-cheek shagging
To beach music to the beat
Of each wave crashing.

Consumed by regret,
We feast on a past of make
Believe to hide shame.

Before the cement
dries, Chucktown singles imprint
their souls with kisses.

Pineapple water,
The welcoming spring of pure
Joy for the city.

Swatting no see ums,
Is a never ending sport
In the low country.

Edgar Allen Poe
Haunts the city where he found
Unrequited love.

While the barbecue
Smokes a little longer, take
Your time on your drink.

Naked magnolia
Trees offset by sculptures means
Art just smelled better.

With the good manners,
The city’s religion of
Smiles is inclusive.

Oh, yellow jasmine
That sweetness of youth playing
Like two porpoises.

Fall madly in love
With the ghosts that shed secrets
In only your ears.

The gates of Simmons
Are the iron will of his
Inner-chambered heart.

Like the sea turtles
Journey home, the salt water
Tastes like memories.

The woman of crab
Make Charleston’s best creamy
Soup In the whole world.

If it weren’t for this
Heat, the tomatoes would not
Be so crazy good.

Electric violins
At the farmer’s market where
You can get all sides.

We heal together
As an example of hope
After tragedies.

A nip of moonshine
In the bewitching hour
When the light is right.

Well-placed thunderstorms
Are like commas that change the
Meaning completely.

Baseball at the Joe
With fireworks on Fridays
And camraderie.