Long way from home

just thinking out loud then on paper......

 

I think of that place, often of late.

Lazy summer days perched on a fishing bank.

A slow paced life, no tall buildings or lanes of freeway cruising.

Rural, farm and field, crops producing next years yield.

 

Place I was born, lived most my life..

Family resides there yet “home” is lost.

That friendly feeling of being together

escapes as years fleeting and sands shifting in the hourglass.

 

The hustle of a bigger place, getting to know the area’s.

Kind of floundering like a fish without its water.

I could be a big city girl, if I tried hard enough, or could I?

World has changed even getting into a job isn’t easy as it once seemed.

 

My mind is always whirling in a fast pace,

like the traffic here late in the day at rush hour state.

If I could just stop….. hang it out to dry

like good old days of clothes hanging out on a line.. country breezes…..

 

I went out driving and did some shopping.

Flying down the road keeping up with lots of traffic.

Looking here and there.. eyes scanning both directions

hoping a dream job would jump out  to stop me.

 

Then I realized come what may, I like this place..

The big city moments, the ocean so near..

Patter of rain on the roof to lull me to sleep..

I must say.. I have missed the rain and cloudy days.

 

Far from home, this is my new spot!

I will be just fine just fine indeed.

 

 

Reviews

[Mark Anthony Games (Hum..]

I agree with Lloyd, I felt like your mind was sitting in a bar drinking a beer and reflecting. Nice imagry and very nicely constructed, great job!

[Lloyd]

I liked this poem, I tend to really enjoy poetry that speaks of reality without rhyme. It feels like emotion, like a real chain of thoughts, felt thoroughly. I want to write like this, in prose, with the whole story told.

[Deborah Shepard]

dreams of what was our souls thoughts ..mine is carmel beaches