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)
Copyright © Anton Mamboanesu | Year Posted 2025
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