Friday, February 3, 2017

Her Corner Of The World






She came from humble beginnings
A place she grew, learned and loved so
Across many mountains, hills and valleys
There was nary a trail she never came to know

Where a simple, little home became a mansion
And laughter sounds a stronger note than tears
Still holds their rhythm in the scheme of life
 In the wind’s sweet insistence from yesteryears

How many childhood days did she play and run
So happy and carefree through those ancient fields
Feeling the wind and rain brushing against her face
So many praises rise above for the joy it still yields

When she closes her eyes she can still see it clear
And hear the humming of the little, honey bees
Under crab apple trees that still bloom in the spring
She faintly smells the perfumed, petal rippling breeze

And the gathering of family around the fire at night
So many cherished memories still fresh in her mind
A father telling his life stories to each of his young
A mother sewing on quilts, a sure legacy left behind

An old oil lamp sits in the window, guiding her path
Leading her onward to that little mansion home
Where the door is open and the light shines bright
She steps inside to a welcome, the best she’s known

Those familiar voices she hears are music to her ears
Gathered around the table, giving blessings galore
The simple, little things in life, are the best of wealth
Even a bowl of milk and bread is worth so much more


Many seasons have come and gone in yesterday’s wind
 The memories will always be close beside all of her days
For the pleasures of this world is found only in the heart
Perhaps across some shadowy valley or ridge, in joyful ways

 And when she is bearing a load up some steep hillside
Familiar echoes are there, pulling her homeward bound
The cool, mountain air upon her face is still just as fresh
Yet still the earth beneath the paths lie packed and brown

A cool drink of water straight from a mountain spring
Where the mountain still hold its kingdom and crown
Crystal, clear waters flow from its downward sloping
Can quench a thirsty soul better than any to be found

She’ll never forget where she came and where she’s been
Or the many miles while spreading her wings to fly
 Trying to find the end of a rainbow takes an eternity
But the gold lies within her heart underneath the same sky

In her corner of the world the mountains are her legacy
She never knows what lies beyond a hilltop but delight
For the things that cause memories to awaken her soul
She so yearns for, she shall sit down and write and write

© Susie Swanson, 2017

5 comments:

  1. Beautiful poem, Susie! I love it, and you still look much the same.

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  2. Is that a picture of you, Susie. You are so cute. And such a lovely poem with precious memories of a wonderful childhood. I love those old oil lamps. I'm sure it brightened the way home for you. How special that your simple little home became a mansion for you. You are such a dear one.

    love, ~Sheri

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  3. Such a cute picture, Susie! I like your poem full of wonderful memories too.

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  4. Susie, I think this must be your picture. I swear it looks like me when I was young. I had a sprinkling of freckles and auburn hair...leather feet from going barefoot all summer long. LOL. I love your poem, a couple lines took me back to Mill Street. Your world was in the wilds of nature. My world was the corner of Mill and Cleveland. Love you, Blessings to all, xoxo, Susie

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