Bring me home to fall
asleep under the sun.
To swing under the tree
to rest just for fun.
Every day is stress
Every life a mess
The memory of home
lingers I confess.
The taste of black berries
ripe and bursting with sweet.
How we did stain!
How we did eat!
The smell of the air
after the rain.
How many mud fights didn’t
cause mother to complain.
And the piles of Autumn leaves
only to be raked again and again;
For who would have a pile
and not jump in…. and in?
And the times at night
when we’d lay in the back of the truck
on blankets and pillows…
and arms, legs, feet, and such.
What star gazers we were
never peaceful, never quiet.
Until one swore they saw a shooting star,
blaze across the sky.
Then it would be still
for all had been said.
And finally to catch a few fireflies,
and then off to the comfort of our bed.
Things I’ll always remember.
Things that will always shine.
Things that make up my home.
Things that are mine.
Things that oh, prove to get better with time.
So let me close my eyes.
Let my mind roam.
Let me just sit a while
and be home.

Yes, let me just sit awhile
and once more, go home.
Written: September 2000

Published in: on December 10, 2009 at 5:59 am  Leave a Comment  

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