Best Hometown Poems
Everything seems smaller
as I revisit old haunts.
Stores where I shopped and
the building where I was schooled
have vanished along with
youth’s dreams that stirred my passions.
I’m a stranger here now.
A friend said
a little mulch
and planting
is what it takes
to transform a yard.
She bought flowers
in spring
as a gift to herself.
She laid the mulch
and planted the flowers
around a tree.
She cried out
for last night’s storm
and all life
a touch of rain could bring.
She said
after her divorce
every transgression
could be forgiven
with a little sun.
After moving back
to her hometown
it was time to start again.
She said
that her two sons
would bring their wives
and come back
for an Easter brunch
when stories told
around the table
would fine new life.
She knelt in the yard
and spring kissed her
on the cheek.
as a warm breeze blew.
A church bell pealed
such joy found
when young girls
dressed in white
holding lilies
danced along the sidewalk.
The house I was born in,
used to stand right here.
I was just one more hungry child
destined to grow old and die.
Right here in this schoolyard,
I learned life’s valuable lessons.
The more you have,
the more you get,
the more you want.
Here’s the church,
that taught me,
no one cared,
about lost souls.
Only how much,
is in the collection,
plate.
This is the highway,
where I found out,
if I went too far.
I would never,
make it back.
No matter how hard I try
Returning to fields rimmed by golden stones
Just there I hear the movements that arise
From August tides lapping; I'm not alone
While rosy daylight cuddles my warm sighs
My hometown blooms again with fine décor
Wildflowers peeping through the lush fairways
As blue-eyed jays trip slowly on the shore
Towards the sand dunes, waking all my days.
I come from a small town,
Nine thousand in all.
There’s nothing really fancy here.
Just a couple of strip malls.
We like our Tim Hortons coffee,
Hockey’s the sport of choice where we get loud.
It’s really all we got to cheer for,
Since the factories left our town.
For me I drive a mixer,
Out there hauling concrete.
This is just a blue collar town.
Everyone trying make it on their own two feet.
This was a railroad and factory town,
Way back in the day.
I remember when I was a teen,
Like my friends we just wanted to escape.
For ten long years I had left,
I just traveled around.
I knew I had to come back,
I missed my old stomping grounds.
I couldn’t believe it,
Somewhere inside me I got the call.
It was tugging at my heart,
My hometown of Smiths Falls.
Located on the Rideau Canal,
Traveled by the pioneers in the fur trade.
Technology and the buildings always change,
Yet the heart here remains the same.
Life in this town right now isn’t easy,
I know it’s like that everywhere.
If you found yourself down and out in my hometown,
There’s always a hand reaching out to drag a friend from despair.
So it’s small town living,
Yes this is what I know.
I may go here and there from time to time,
Smiths Falls will always be my home.
It’s knowing all the faces,
It’s not worrying about walking down any of the streets.
It’s putting the pride of the town on your shoulders,
Visitors can see it in our eyes when we meet.
It’s just a small little town,
There aren’t too many famous sites.
I guess it’s the strong heart of all who live here.
It’s that heart where I found these words to write.
Always I will love my home town.
Smiths Falls, Ontario Canada
Hometown memories
I met her when l was very young. Only a few years old,l started hanging out with her.Till our relationship got really intimate .Later on my ambitions forced me to leave her and move far away.
Where we could not hang out as we used to.On the day l left she told me that she always knew that l was going to leave her. Now all l have in my heart is our sweet memories together. The Lord knows how l miss my home town.
© Messin .T. Mukomberanwa
Went shopping today
In Montrose, PA
Saw lots of folks
I must say
Knew most of them
I met along the way
I must once again say
That I like it that way
Five thousand people is
The total population
Many seen might
Just be relation
Familiar faces met
Flash smiles as we meet
Hearty hellos how are ya's
As each other we greet
People from my past
People of my today
Small little town
I like it that way
Grew up in the sixties
on Long Island, N.Y.,
where we had sidewalks,
and where you could walk,
to local stores, schools, or doctors,
or just your neighbor for a talk…
Summers went swimming,
at the Village Green Pool,
afterwards bought a Mr. Softee cone
to help me stay cool,
In the Fall went to Northside Elementary,
then later Division Avenue High...
and had to walk to school,
there was no bus ride…
Winters watched Ed Sullivan,
with my family and dog,
keeping an eye on the fire,
and the smoldering logs…
Went back for a visit,
could see the change,
with trees a lot taller,
the houses with built on dormers,
the taxes got a lot higher,
Nassau County is to blame…
Can you guess
where I am from,
my hometown was built in the late forties,
for returning vets,
by a man none other than,
Mr. Levitt.
Hartlepool , My Hometown
St Hilda's bathed in sunlight Is a sight i love to see
The Marina with it's many boats, that’s the place for me
Back down to the Headland for Verill's fish and chips
Hartlepool it's my hometown
We have the shopping centre, empty units galore
And I think of all the great shops we had in days of yore
Blacketts, Sages, Robinsons, bargain by the score
Hartlepool is my hometown
I grew up on the Central Estate everyone knew everyone
Now everyone keeps to themselves, so sad the Central's gone
The town i knew it is long gone, this is sad but true
Old Hartlepool, I'm missing you
A gentle breeze cools this sunny day as I sit by the river. My heart aches for my yesterdays', I am visiting my hometown. My old friends stop by, but not long enough for my satisfaction. I am filled with love for this place, and for the people who live here.
My roots, my childhood, and most of life's hard lessons I learned living on this river. It is my solace, my comfort, and makes me feel complete.
They say you can never go home again, I say it is the only place on earth where you can go to feel life, love and true friendships.
Let me return again, and again.....let my family always be there to love me, my friends be there to welcome me, and a small part of heaven be waiting to bless me.
Lynn (Hanna) Barany.
In my hometown, there lies a street,
A buzzing, busy city street,
Where cars speed forward in roaring fleets
Toward places to be and people to meet.
And on this street lies a bouquet,
A busty, bountiful bouquet.
Next to the cracking curb, it lays
And braves the the traffic of midday.
And the bouquet has leaves of red,
A lustful, lively, bloody red.
It's sad such life will soon be dead,
Crushed by our killer tire treads.
The ocean aroma
Filled the air.
As we all do
Is just stay
Here
No need to go anywhere
Because where we are is
What we know
Is
Right Underneath
Our feet
The chiseled
Sand
Burning our feet
The sunny
Shores of Florida
from seat
To
Seat.
All of the birds
Chirping
To a rhythmic beat
The amazing neighbors all up and down
The
Street.
Over down south
In our beloved state.
Is not just the beaches
Or the mice's face
But the people
Inside here
That keeps
A smile on
Your face.
Forever here
We stay.
Beacsue this is Florida
And there is
No other
Way.
That small town Christmas spirit...
It grew a little brighter
just after Thanksgiving.
Garlands were wrapped around
every light pole lining the main street.
Multi-colored light strings
outlined every window.
The drug store, the library.
Even the corner bar
across from the church
had a little Christmas spirit and cheer.
And, the post office, busy with workers
answering kids' letters to Santa...
Young voices rose
from the school gymnasium,
where the Christmas program
was always held.
It was the only place
where every class
could stand together
and sing a song or two.
Behind the high school
stood the sledding hill.
The highest point
overlooking the town,
was fun and magical...
especially on moonlit nights.
Beyond that snowy hill
was the grocery store.
Freshly cut pine trees
stood for sale
in the parking lot.
Every aisle inside the store
was warmly decorated.
And, by the "OUT" door
was a reminder to bring in
old coats and new toys
for the needy families.
Filling the empty bins
would be a miracle here...
When none of us
had much ourselves.
Yet, they were full
by Christmas Eve.
I guess, when you're a kid
you notice these things...
And, after the lights
were turned off,
the decorations taken down.
That small town Christmas spirit
Still lingered in that place...
Small, cut in half by Route Sixty-Six,
with farms and ranches scattered around.
Theaters, cafes, motels, your picks
Saturdays, everyone came to town.
What fun walking down crowded Main Street.
giving a farm boy a furtive glance.
Then movies, popcorn, something sweet
to watch Fred and Ginger glide and dance.
The tranquil aura of peacefulness,
of hometown, friends, and a picture show.
We didn't think of days that would pass
and our small town we would soon outgrow.
One day, we all left to find our dreams,
farms dried up with recurring drought.
Town forgotten in I-Forty's schemes,
the town withers within and without.
Our last reunion, old times we share,
sunshine, laughter, tears we can still find
in boarded stores, steets beyond repair
in our small hometown we left behind.
I was sittin' on the porch today reminiscin' about this and that,
And my hometown came to mind where I grew up as a feckless brat!
Life was lived at a slower pace it seemed, back in that place and time.
We didn't smoke grass but stealin' watermelons was a common crime!
The senior prom was held in the school gym and didn't cost a bunch.
There was no McDonalds so you had to eat at Marty's Diner for lunch.
Imagine! You danced cheek-to-cheek to a romantic Miller refrain,
And there were no computers - you actually had to use your brain!
The girls in your class were OK, but you preferred gals in that other town!
You raced about town in your Ford and with the cops became quite renown!
Guys kept shotguns in their jalopies to go rabbit huntin' right after school.
You took pleasure in datin' your pal's ex-girl friend, thinkin' you were so cool!
You could usually find who you were lookin' for at the dairy bar or pool hall.
You pushed a reel-type lawn mower when you'd rather be playin' basketball.
Everyone gathered downtown on Saturday nights for a movie or just to hang out.
Boys started drivin' their dad's John Deere tractor at age ten or thereabout.
If you walked somewhere, people would stop to see if you needed a ride.
Should you be the last kid chosen for a game, that really hurt your pride!
Boys wore 'butch' haircuts and girls sported ponytails and saddle shoes.
When I recall those carefree days I get a touch of the melancholy blues!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
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