My Old Country Home

 

 

MY OLD COUNTRY HOME

 

 

My Old Country Home

 

So many memories in my life

Are found down dusty lane

Within the broken splintered walls

And shattered window pane.

 

A home, fine as a mansion

Its paint, as white as snow

Oh how I long for years gone by

Those days of long ago.

 

Behind those walls came laughter

As children filled each room

Visions of my mom and dad

Break through the distant gloom.

 

My thoughts drift towards my childhood

Mom's heart is young and glad

She's cooking in the kitchen

And baking pies for dad.

 

She's cutting out a pattern

And sewing things for me

With nimble hands, she works the cloth

She loves her family.

 

I see her in the garden

We planted one each year

She grew tomatoes, green beans, too

And sweet corn on the ear.

 

So many chores in raising kids

Mom handled with such ease

Our clothes were hung upon the line

With scent of country breeze.

 

The loft is filled with hay bales

Stacked neatly, way up high

The wind mill way out yonder

Goes upwards to the sky.

 

I clearly see the barn lot

A rooster running loose

The cows, the hogs and chickens

A noisy mother goose.

 

The yard is full of green grass

With two dogs lazing round

The trees stand tall like statues

Their roots are firmly bound.

 

I catch a glimpse of Daddy

He worked so hard each day

Always busy, things to do

For there were bills to pay.

 

He pulls into the driveway
A strong, work-driven man
He just returned from job away
Now time to work the land.

 

It’s tractors, fields and combines
As summer brings the sun
September yields the harvest
A season’s work is done.

 

I hear the sounds of crickets
A sultry summer night
We played out in the back yard
The moon was shining bright.

 

With horse rides in the summer
And hay rides in the fall
Wiener roasts and cider
For neighbors, one and all.

 

I remember days of sledding
When roads were drifted in
Through hip-deep snow we waded
To venture out again.

 

Christmas time brought magic
And lots of pretty snow
With uncles, aunts and cousins
To Grandma’s house, we’d go.

 

Berries were abundant
We found them in the wild
Picked them by the bushel
When I was just a child.

 

A country church on Sunday
Amidst the fertile sod
A lonely bell did beckon
To seek the face the God.

 

I see the fields of clover
Like it were yesterday
Days that we spent fishing
The smell of fresh cut hay.

 

Gone are bikes and saddles
Where once a garage did stand
The building now has withered
Like shifting grains of sand.

 

I miss those many by-gone years
My home, aged by decay
But I will always remember
The smell of fresh cut hay.

 

At times I still remember
And close my eyes to see
Sweet visions of that country home
My friends and family.

 

Author/Written By:
Marilyn Ferguson
©2007

 

 

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Above Photo Taken by Cousin

~ © 2007 Carolyn Williamson 

 

 

Isn't it sad, what years can do to a place? I was shocked
 to see it like this. Everything is different; The buildings, the
 yard, the barn, the garage, all has faded away.
The only thing left standing is what is left of the house.
Farmland now consumes the large sprawling yard that
 was once covered with green grass and where towering
 trees once stood.

 

The house in the photo is not actually the one I grew
 up in, however, I spent many days there. It
is the actual home where my Aunt & Uncle

lived.  I resided for a couple years with my
grandparents who lived just down the road from them,
 however, I made many trips walking the half mile gravel

 road to my aunt and uncle's home. It was like their home was

 my home, too.  They were just were like parents to me and I

referred to them as such in the poem. Hope you enjoy my trip
 back into time!

 

 Marilyn

~~~~~~~


Music:
"Where Have All the Flowers Gone"

 

 

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