A Quilt of Home
There are pieces of a quilt recalled, that once I called my home
Still folded into memory, and there to keep me warm
When the chill of winter overcomes, on stormy afternoons
I long to wrap my self inside the love that has been sewn
I will close my eyes, and deep inside, I see it again
The land, the home, the ones I loved and where it all began
A few meager acres, with long white fences and a house with no pretentions
Standing in the morning sun, two well loved horses, clamor for attention
A small corral…, my dad in Levi's, …a pitchfork heaped with hay
A barn, some stalls, a chicken house, a clothes line leads the way
Sweet fragrant fields of alfalfa rows, five peach trees burst with season's bloom
Across the road are melon fields, spreading vines throughout the loom
Inside the house, some bacon fries, along with radio's drama
Clattering pans, and the chatter from phones, and then I see my Mama
The kitchen is painted a cheery yellow, as warm as melted butter
A breakfast nook, the table set, and a pile of school day clutter
The living room, ..the windows frame a sky, where mountains hover
This home I knew, the quilt I’ve sewn, will keep me warm forever
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