My Home
There’s
a little town called Sedgwick
Nestled
down beside the sea
Where
the snow falls deep in winter
And
in summer, sails fly free.
There
you hardly could be lonely
For
most every man’s your friend
Always
ready with a neighbor’s heart
A
helping hand to lend.
In
the chill of early spring time
She
with maple syrup steams
Pushing
off her soft white blanket
Melting
ice back into streams
The
salty breath of summer carries
Pollen
from blooming trees
In
her rocky fields of blue berries
The
blossoms buzz with bees.
Fall
gently droops her frosty tarp
Over
reddening berry plots
And
drips her brightly tipped brush
On
her thickly wooded lots.
While
the unforgiving winter
Blows
ice in her rocky face.
All
families pass their evenings
Wrapped
around their fireplace.
My
memories ever there are moored
And
there I’ll ever turn.
To
revisit the joys still anchored there,
And
to watch the home fires burn.
