As always a beautiful and romantic piece. However this one is perhaps even more romantic than usual. And I agree. How happy a home filled with loved ones. Money can't buy this. Nothing can replace this. This is what completes us and gives us our sense of purpose and meaning.
That careless, young feeling is in all of our memories. You expressed that well. I really liked "To the meadow where my home sat
there childhood dreams were born and died
I followed the path that life led
my guarding angel at my side"
And the pictures you provide really enhance the entire poem!
My house is hundreds of miles from where I live now. I haven't lived there for over twenty years. But it will always be my house, surrounded by giant forsythias and shaded by a pecan tree, next to woods and wildflowers sweeping across a hillside chunked with huge limestone boulders, down to a shimmering little creek clean enough that we got our drinking water from it.
The forsythias are gone and so is the pecan, destroyed by people who apparently suffered from a pathological fear of trees and had most of them cut down, the boulders removed, and the wildflowers poisoned so that nothing would interfere with their view of a giant, sterile lawn. But in my heart it's still all there, all mine. In case you hadn't noticed, your poem brought it back. This is a magnificent, beautiful piece. I loved the imagery of "tall fields of both wheat and rye."
We are a fraction of every person we've ever met, every place we've ever been - not my thoughts but oh so true. Recapturing past turns thoughts in a kind of movie show, past places are re-visited, past talk heard again .. going back to learn rather than regret is very special. A person can't deny his or her past, it's where the itsy bitsy roots of you are deep into the earth. And your lovely words say just that:
' Coming home from where I had been
retracing steps from here to there
Has brought my life full circle now
bringing back the lessons I share '
It's hard to see someone else living in my old house, and other kids playing in my old yard. It always makes me sad.
Good to know it isn't that way for everybody.
Wow, I loved this piece, don't we all find ourselves stuck a t point in life. Where we think we are lost, out of place, unfound, we intend to think we know who we're becoming when all along all we needed was to look in ourselves to foind our trueselves. It is their we will find where we belong and who we are. I loved how you filled us with the sweet nostalgic memories of childhood, the innocence of youth. The homely feeling. This is a beautiful piece. Beautiful imagery in fact.
This is a beautiful poem. The images of your sweet home and the dreams of hopes of those who pass by or come to live there, is just amazing. It's all so hopeful and peaceful.
To the meadow where my home sat
there childhood dreams were born and died
I followed the path that life led
my guarding angel at my side
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I am a product of the Midwest. Raised on the plain states of North America. I was nurtured on a .. more..