Coming Home

How I miss my North Carolina home
sitting in the backyard swing serenading
the stars and wildlife
the sweet smell of honeysuckle
the hayfields in May so tall
green pastures with sporadic brown, white,
and black spots contrasted like a Monet
the barn and the acquired
smell of horse manure
a Labrador and Collie more spoiled than
any child
rodeos on a cool, fall night under
a Cherokee moon
with all of life's romanticism to boot
the Andy Griffith show at 5:30pm
and its simplistic portrayal of the finer
things in life
Sunday churchbell grace in smalltown delight
a family celebrating holidays, everyday