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Personal Note:

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Poem

How I miss the sound of the lonely train chucketty chucking along
snaking rails
the eerie hooting of its horn cutting a path through unyielding darkness
that carries one's mind on a mysterious journey to places unknown.
The lonesome hooting of the owl filling one with premonitions taught to us as old 
wives tales.
The high pitched singing of the cicada among the bushy trees while  
ghostly shadows lurch unsteadily in  the shifting light of the moon.
From the distance and echoing down  the hills the plaintive cry of the coyote 
bring a chill to the bones and fear to the hunter.
The drip drip of raindrops on iron roofs,....stacatto beats
 leading us into dreams.
Even the creak of the old  house as it settles down to sleep
fills me with comfort and belonging.
Then dawn that gentle tone of day when early birds set up a chirp and a song
while farmers milk and tend their flock.
The smell of  a hearty breakfast of bacon eggs and ham
tickle the senses shocking  the sleeper into wakefullness
another day bright and crisp as mist slowly ebbs and bright sunshine comes out 
to play.
while cattle graze along green sloping hillsides, dotting the landcape like raisin 
on bread
and horses, fleet of hoof, gallop accross the ridges,flaming manes fanned by a 
teasing wind.
My home in the country is what I miss where everyday sounds is a symphony 
unique so unlike city sounds .....a clash of brass... a chaotic symphony
I miss life in the countryside  where all sounds fuse  together in blissful 
harmony.

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