Poetry

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I go there often
In the mind of my soul...
To the place that I know,
To the place that is home.

My heart is there...
Where earth meets the sky
In profusion of color
Red, orange, yellow, pink, blue...

I often take a walk
Down dusty paths...
Through bluebonnet fields
Where memory lives.

Cotton fields and windmills...
Stories my father shared.
Quilt making and homemade ice cream...
Treasures from my mother.

My memory is long...
I will not forget the simple joys of home.
I will not forget the cradle of my life...
I will not forget a heritage of strength.

The world is large and new,
But my home is familiar and close...
Cattle grazing under a canvass of stars
Is comfort to me.

My home is open space
And endless vision...
My home is where I walk on lonely days...
Through bluebonnet fields
Where memory lives.

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