Emerald Hill Childrens' Home

In forgotten fields of green, Where laughter echoed, wild and free, I chase the ghosts of childhood's dream, And whispers of yesterday's sweet theme. Sunday morning, bright and fair, Church bells chime, with love and care, Father's prayers, a gentle guide, We're lost in warmth, where love resides. The Lord's guidance, a beacon bright, Leads us through life's plodding night, In innocence, we took it as truth, God, the answer, in our childish youth. In the light of Christ, we found our way, The church's teachings, guided us each day, Our hearts, pure and open, received the light, And in its warmth, our spirits took flight. Born from innocent wombs, lost to the world's sight Forgotten by parents, left in endless night But in the haven of love, we found our way Cherished, nourished, and flourishing, come what may Our minds and hearts, fed by love's gentle hand We blossomed, grew, and accepted, in a foreign land Through trials and tribulations, we found our voice And in the love, we discovered our heart's choice God prospered through the pain, the tears, the strife And in the darkness, love became our guiding light We rose above the ashes, like phoenixes born And in the love, we found our truest form. I miss the gentle haven, the cradle of my past The mother's arms that held me, though not of blood or birth at last The scoldings, rebukes, and strictness, a discipline so true The rod that guided me, when naughty, back to you I miss it all, the haven, the place, the loving care The sense of home, of belonging, that's no longer there I miss you all, the ones who took me in, who made me whole The ones who loved me, disciplined me, and made me soul. © Anton Mamboanesu (aka Créatif Word)