My Heart's Already Home

                                                      I can see it in the distance
                                                      sitting so humble there
                                                      an old childhood home
                                                      with springtime in the air

                                                      Children are laughing and playing
                                                      over the hills they roam
                                                      enjoying those simple pleasures
                                                      the best they've ever known

                                                      Oh it must be laundry day
                                                      the clotheslines are hanging full
                                                      quilts are blowing in the wind
                                                      there's sure to be an armful

                                                      The gardens have been plowed
                                                       there's potatoes in every row
                                                       soon everyone will gather
                                                       and each will have a hoe

                                                       The bounty will be plentiful
                                                        like that little, green onion bed
                                                        my goodness those onions are good
                                                        with a big piece of cornbread

                                                        Those chickens sure are happy
                                                        I bet there's nests everywhere
                                                        there'll be so many little ones
                                                        the hens will flog for sure

                                                        That old barn looks inviting
                                                         in that hayloft I'd love to play
                                                         while the cow's in the pasture
                                                         this pretty springtime day

                                                         I can see those old grapevines
                                                         they're still hanging over the creek
                                                         it'll soon be the first of May
                                                         time to go barefoot at the retreat

                                                         Maybe it'll help with the chiggers
                                                         come blackberry picking time
                                                         of course there'll always be plenty
                                                         and scratching if so inclined

                                                         It'll soon be time for supper
                                                         I can smell it in the air
                                                         cooked on that old wood stove
                                                         the best eating anywhere

                                                         There's so many things to enjoy
                                                         I could never get my fill
                                                         my heart's already home
                                                         like that old, rusted wagon wheel

                                                         The cherry trees are blooming
                                                         dogwoods are white as snow
                                                         oh what a blessing
                                                         to go back where I did grow

                                                         Susie Swanson, 2012