Sunday, October 20, 2013

Home At Last

                                             Faraway from the turmoil of this world
                                             there's a little house sitting on a hillside
                                             I want to go back to that childhood home
                                             where faith, hope and love chose to abide

                                             I can see the chimney smoke rising above
                                             oh the happiness packed in that humble abode
                                             A welcome warmth from today's stress and strife
                                             where unity came together and love growed

                                             I can hear the barking of that old squirrel dog
                                             upon that little hill he's treed him a squirrel
                                             It brings a world of comfort to hear it again
                                             an escape and refuge for this weary, country girl

                                            And the rooster crowing at the break of dawn
                                            still awakens my heart with a morning song
                                            A little, sleepy-eyed girl with a smiling, freckled face
                                            still knows exactly where she'll always belong

                                            There's so much beauty to be seen in my eyes
                                            like that pretty laurel hanging by the road
                                            There's nothing more refreshing to my bare feet
                                            then the little branch where the cool water flowed

                                            On those beautiful, sunny slopes and golden hills
                                            is where I spent my growing years so carefree
                                            I want to go back to that wonderful, old place
                                            where the living was good and life seemed so easy

                                           I have never known but joy in going back home
                                           in a changing world, only memories are made to last
                                           How I long to step upon that old, creaky porch
                                           then my homesick heart will cry, home, home at last

                                           © Susie Swanson, 2013


  1. Such a beautiful poem of home...I wish I had such fond memories of mine.

  2. Susie, this just took me back to the little gray house I grew up in: only three small rooms, pot-bellied stove, hot air in the summer and cold air in the winter. We played in the branch and on the hillside rocks. The old house is gone, but I too would love to step upon the porch. I don't feel like I can ever cry, " home, home at last", until I reach my heavenly home.

    You are so good at bringing memories to mind!

    1. Thank you Charlotte. It's just wishful thinking on my part as well. My old homeplace is gone now too. We all have our own memories.

  3. Susie you really captured those sweet memories of your long ago home well in this poem. I hope you have a wonderful week ahead.

  4. Oh, Susie, there are places in my heart, too, that I'd love to revisit. But without those dear souls who have gone on, it just wouldn't be the same. I love this one!

    1. Thank you Elaine and you are so right. I thought about that while I was writing this..

  5. Susie, I want to go back to that wonderful, old place too. This poem hit home for me today because lately I've been missing my mom and the special house that I was raised in. Sometimes I will drive through the old neighborhood because I still have an aunt and uncle on the same block, and it brings back so many wonderful memories for me. From one hometown girl to another, your poem was so special for me today.


    1. Thank you Sheri. I know what you mean, sometimes it's more hard, especially at certain times of the year. I want to go back too.

  6. This was sure sweet to read. I love that picture of the cozy cabin too.
    You would probably love the sound of my dog Buddy (coon hound mix) when he sings...He loves to sing and loves to tree squirrels too!
    ~Blessings and love~ Lisa

    1. Thank you Lisa. I would love to hear your dog so much. Blessings to you.

  7. Susie, With your southern up bringing, I read words you use that my mother used to branch(water) . We would probably call every bit of water streams , creeks.. I have really been enjoying my book of your poetry. xoxo,Susie

    1. Aww, thank you Susie and I'm so glad you're enjoying the book. xoxoxo

  8. Lovely poem...the picture and words are perfect compliments for each other. This poem actually makes me think of our cabin life here, and how special it is...I'm hoping some day my daughters and grandson have similar fond memories of it like in your poem.

    Thanks for your kind words on my blog, I'm looking forward to writing my book...I may be looking to you for some guidance/advance, being that you are a successfully published author:)

  9. Thank you Lise. I'm so happy you've decided to do your book. I don't know what I could give but will be willing to try. i couldn't have done it myself if not for help.. Thanks again..

  10. I felt like I was right there beside you Susie what a beauty this one is. But all of your writing is so heart felt and inspiring love reading them. Thank you! Keep writing and I will keep reading. LOve them and you!!! Blessings