Always do right. This will gratify some people and astonish the rest. - Mark Twain


65 nominations

Away from the sugary land of my birth Of some million, million hills and mountains, She stood calling. The soothing voice of nostalgia, With each wave of the ocean, Beckoned me home to the land of abundant green. Standing there by splashing waters, I felt her in the ice-cold breeze, As she hugged me in reminiscence, Gripped me so strongly, luring me home, Against the wishes of circumstance I can hear your soundless voice In the sonorous songs of these seagulls, As they gyrate over the waters, Flapping endless memories of you, With each stroke of their wings Like those black kites at home I picture you dressed in green, Just like yesterday I imagine you dressed in visions and in voices Voices of my childhood, Of my peers and of the gardens, Bidding me to my mother's orchard Where life for me, was born...

© seaman


You have to be a registered user to be
able to post comments to poetry.

Register Today!

If you already have an account, log in to post a comment.

Please be patient while we go looking for comments...