The Old Home Place

Secluded in a corner of my heart,
where flowered years are safely tucked away,
it lives through time, a picture set apart,
the old home place of youth's sweet yesterday.

Majestic scenes caress my aging mind,
I see such lovely pictures playing free;
an era that has long been left behind,
a cherished cinematic memory.

What panoramic visions fill my view,
what treasured Southern landscapes do I see!
Nostalgic reels of yesteryear's venue,
unrolling in the deepest part of me.

Oh, fertile land, you are a splendid scene;
you call me back again to days gone by,
to those expansive fields of corn so green
and dazzling cotton crops that awe my eye!

I love the sound of wagons bumping ruts
that lead me to the rusty-hinged front door.
Across the road from fields of green peanuts,
there stands my home sweet home in days of yore!

Where bees are buzzing and magnolias bloom,
and where the pregnant trees sag down with fruits,
the old house rises like a proud heirloom,
a memoried testimony of my roots.

Oh, wood-planked structure with your roof of tin,
you are a haven with your door ajar!
You seem to lift fond arms and say, "Come in;
you're home, my child, come rest from journeys far."

I've traveled many roads on God's great earth;
I've hugged the highway with a steadfast pace;
no place I've seen could ever match the worth
or be as precious as the old home place.

~Copyright 1999 Ruth Gillis~

Previously published in Poet's Review March 1999

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