Hills of Home

Hills of Home

A Poem by Tate Morgan
"

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






$12.50

To see my books click on the pictures to take you to them



$12.50




$12.50

© 2020 Tate Morgan


Author's Note

Tate Morgan
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.

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Featured Review

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.

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Good shot..!!!

Posted 8 Years Ago


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!


Posted 8 Years Ago


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

Posted 8 Years Ago


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

Posted 8 Years Ago


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

Posted 8 Years Ago


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

Posted 8 Years Ago


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..

Posted 8 Years Ago


(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.

Posted 8 Years Ago


I agree with roarke, home is many things. Home doesn't have to be a place where you live, but more so a place where you yourself feel safe. I read this over and over again, and think of what it means to me, which is how all poetry should be. To me, it seems like a poem towards apathy, or a rite to aspire freedom. I always feel like these poem formats will never become redundant, and that is very true. Tate, you keep your work fresh, you keep it to the point where we always turn a new corner in your life, and we let that certain part of our mind, that lets you vision life, trigger, so we can see through your eyes and view the true mutual feel of, for this poem, home.

Posted 8 Years Ago


nice work Tate...you have guided us through those experiences of life, love, and family...it is a walk that each of us makes in individual ways...with a bit of the spiritual view of God and the Heavens...and that is truly our real home...

Posted 8 Years Ago



Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

3757 Views
87 Reviews
Shelved in 3 Libraries
Added on September 25, 2011
Last Updated on February 10, 2020
Tags: : poetry, Life, Sad, adventure, mystery, pain, poem, romance, story, death, fantasy, fiction, heart, love

Author

Tate Morgan
Tate Morgan

Marion , OH



About
more..

Writing

Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..


Why? Why?

A Poem by Tate Morgan


Biting Back Biting Back

A Poem by Bubo