A loving place where I did once dwell
But will never be allowed to return
You are the spring that feeds the stories I tell
The keeper of the things that I have learned
Each step I take is filled with memories
From a life that I once knew
Every smell from flower and tree
Pulls my thoughts back to you
There in those backyards of my memories
I recall my pledge from so long ago
That I will remain open and free
And cling to youth and never let go
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Great poem!! Love the B&W shot! Is that a 56 Mercury??
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I believe it is. One of my brothers had an Edsel when I was growing up and the other had a 57 Chevy. Of course, with 15 of us children, there were a lot of cars… and a lot of stories.
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That’s great! I love it!!
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Beautiful! Now I know why ‘the backyard’!
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I probably spend way too much of my time running around those backyards of my youth.
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That sounds time well spent!
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Nice post
Wonderful writing skills you have
Incredible
Visit mine
http://shivashishspeaks.wordress.com/
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Thanks, I’ll pop into your site and have a look around.
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After reading about the fate of your hometown, this beautiful poem illustrated its significance to you very powerfully.
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Funny, I spent my youth trying to get away from my tiny little town and now that it’s gone, it’s the one place I want to be.
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Whoah 😮
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Thanks, I think. I am going to take it as a whoah, “I liked it,” and not Whoah, “stop posting you no talent hack.” (inserting smiley face here)
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😂🤣yes whoah as in so good i had no words. You better not stop 😁
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the backyard was the place we learnt to be good adults and better humans – a firm favourite this is now!!
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wonderful poetry!
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Thanks for the kind words.
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