Margaret Foster Poet Rhyme

Going Home

A sparkling burn that flows between
the golden gorse and rushes green.
Over pebbles, whitewashed and clean.
Makes me teary.
A blessed sight I haven’t seen
for long an’ weary.

I went to sea to try my hand
at sailing on the oceans grand.
I drifted up on golden sand
and here I stayed.
In this red hot and sun scorched land
my head I laid.

And drift again I surely will.
Another bend, another hill.
But my fool heart’s in Scotland still
across the foam.
Of foreign climes I’ve had my fill...
I’m going home.



A Scottish stanza

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Linda-Marie Sweetheart February 24, 2010 at 4:07 PM A beautiful write Margaret.. an exciting country Australia.. I luv their accents too.. your words are wonderful... appreciate your comments on my blog today.. getting to know each poet on a personal level building friendships.. thankxxx...luv.. Linda-Marie.

Caroline Cécile Delacroix February 24, 2010 at 1:30 PM Oh, I see. Anyhow, it is a very lovely poem and it does make one think and remember the home we come from. Great work of the pen, Margaret. Thanks for the share and thank you for your kind comments on mine. Best wishes, Caroline.

Carol Sunshine Brown February 24, 2010 at 11:14 AM I enjoyed reading your poetry today Margaret. Please keep writing and sharing with us here at PoetrySoup. Love, Carol

Andrea Dietrich February 23, 2010 at 9:42 PM oh, you are in Australia, margaret? I am SO jealous of you. ACTUAL good health care program there from all i've heard!! Puts us to shame here. This poem is darling, and I loved the sentiment and how you expressed it in the final stanza. Luv, Andrea