Memories
In the countryside where I walk
Are memories of old, in colors of sunny gold
The grass is green, the wind gently keens
and days are never cold
In the midst of stillness stands a barn
red and sturdy on a farm
The sweet smell of hay,
the mooing of cows bring memories
of home and unrestricted play
Kids played hop- skotch and fired sling -shots
A time of milk pails and iron pots
Mama's washing hung on the line
waving in the wind in 2/4th time
The sturdy barn brought a moment of bliss
As I smelled the hay in the darkened loft
I realized how much I so miss
my mother's loving touch.
Copyright © Margaret Okubo | Year Posted 2014
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