Hills of Home

Bells of the town clock tower took too much from you and me Yet off to the rock and river they give of life for eternity

Wind ran by to kiss your cheek

round your neck our gilded hopes hung

The hand of God flowed soft within

from when he was happy and young

______________________________

Forget the nights of wanton desire

give to me not love nor tears

Evenings filled with endless dreams

bring me safe from all life's fears

______________________________

Your beauty is so great to bear

my chest hardly held its ache

For beauty more than bitter tears

will make the soft heart break

______________________________

Bells of the town clock tower

took too much from you and me

Yet off to the rock and river

they gave of life for eternity

______________________________

How often did we pass each other

o'er the long years as others do

Ne'er  once daring to ride the fire

to heavens door we never knew

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Author's Note

This is my first attempt at something a bit abstract. So please bear with me as I learn.
In our great attempt at manifest destiny we have left so many families broken apart, estranged, lost to the winds of time. Even now we let our cities die as we build ever outward to the horizons. We are in such a hurry to make our mark on this world we forget the most important thing, home. Is any man strong enough that he never need to lean on the foundation that bore him to adulthood? As in the times of the ancient mariner we all hear the call of sirens that gesture us to sail home. Continuity of purpose flows from the wellspring of our lives. In the end we all find we are drawn inexorably home, to the hearth from around which we told our tales of long ago and spun our yarns of a life well lived. The well spent life will always beckon from the winds of change a call for home.

Reviews

[roarke]

home is many things. The hearth, heart.... it's an age old concept, not always evident in modern times. But visible or not, it's the same, "never risking once to ask the way..." What should be instinctual from cradle now is disintegrated into many disconnected parts, waiting for each one to find it and fashion it anew.... difficult task. Ah, continuity of purpose... intentions, home isn't made of serendipity... the hearth fire isn't the glow of a flat screen.... the dry, warm, quiet inner security isn't provided by gated community security....
Heaven's door, the eternal home.

[Poeticpiers]

You create an ambience of despair tempered by hope. WE all pass up opportuinites simply because we have our sights set on an unreachable target. Happiness was there before us and we failed to see it

[cartera]

Last verse deserves another poem to itself.
Lots of good images:Bells of the old clock tower' set my imagination going.
Keep on with the abstracts please.
ATB
Alex.

[Priyankaabhilaashi]

Good shot..!!!

[Helena]

Absolutely stunning work. So many wonderfully, gentle and beautiful stanzas I couldn't find a favorite. The music was the finishing touch to a masterpiece! Bravo!

[Adam M. Snow]

Wow, this is very good. Keep up the good work Tate

[gogi7]

very nice anthology :) keep it up..great work. :)

[Alicia Hirshey]

This is amazing. I think that you pulled abstract off gracefully.

[Lily Mae]

I think this is true to all of your other work.. it's another beauty..xo

[Larry Dyson]

A wonderful anthology of the railroad engine and Its passing ..I love the old 4-6-4 prairie engines and this graveyard picture brings home the ideas in your Poetry..well done Tate..

[Jazique]

(first thought to come to mind "NICE!" I really this line might I add and you just have this signature to writing that just says its mine.
"Forget the nights of wanton desire
give to me not love nor tears
Evenings filled with endless dreams
bring me safe from all loves fears"
can I just your writing is deep and its heart to find that now a days with wisdom and all and you're right some many of us going forward to other places forgetting who we are and where from and its ashame because that what made us. Home is number one even when its where you don't want to be. For the winds of change can take you anywhere in the world but, at the end you always return home if by instinct or nature. Anyways well done and nice to read one of your poems again.