Dirty, abandoned and abused
Its structure sound for a century
Its only redemption
On (not love at) first sight
A stony hillside of sunlight
Filled with narcissus and daffodils
Tears, time and sweat
Revealed the sturdy heart
Scrubbed shining and painted
Pure comfort readying
Hospitality fit for the angels
Who would soon fill its rooms
Surrounded by woods and meadows
Seven acres of Ozarks ridge
Visited by fox and white tailed deer
Trimmed in pink fairie roses
To crown the summer queen
Each peeper filled pond
Chime laden black haw
Secret fern covered spring
Rocky paths lined by red clover
Became daily destinations
Of wonder and solemn beauty
Seasons of sun and moon
Stars, comets and fireflies
Signs and wonders revealed
Violet winter days of deep snow
Green scented spring breezes
Autumns golden splendors
Its old structure still sound
Filled with echoes of love
Magical decade now a decade past
Memory erases the sadness
Leaving only the longing
Of hearts first true home
I so love this poem. I have a “heart’s true home” too…………I know how such places shine golden in our memory.
love the pic… and the words that surround it… lovely story telling
Hi Kathlee. I can see those ‘blackberried fencelines’. Jane
Lovely – it’s amazing how those shacks can get under our skin.
Sounds like a beautiful place! ~peace, Jason
mmm. . . peeper filled ponds. They can be so loud too. I loved “seeing” it all with you.
One year they were sooooo loud that a friend said he thought that might be what you would hear if you went insane! Thanks, Nancy – hope you have a great week! K
sturdy home in wild landscape sounds wonderful. happysadness of love and time.
Thank-you for sharing your memories in such a beautiful way, ripe with the wonder of imagery.
Thank you Anna – I am happy you liked it – K
So heartwarming…everything about this “home”. I could truly sense the love that you had for it…and always will.
Thanks very much – I appreciate your time and kind words – K
I just loved this, it sounds so wonderful, idyllic and what a wonderful sketch, very much enjoyed.
Thank you so much especially for mentioning the pen and ink sketch. It was done by a very creative and talented artist, Carol Allen of HotSprings Arkansas – my aunt!
Sounds like it was a wonderful place, so sad that it is gone. it seems like humanity has a way of crowding in on all beautiful places in the name of progress… hopefully there will be places somewhere in the future for true solitude and wilderness to be seen,
I am still drawn to the wildness of this region – its terrain makes it difficult to over populate – except with deer and wild turkey! Thanks for dropping by – so appreciate your time – K
I have a home like this too in my heart. Thanks for sharing yours so beautifully here.
Susan, we left it over a decade ago – and the land has been sold around it, so what I remember – the privacy and wildness – is gone – filled with lights and roads and houses. But it will always be THE place in my heart. Glad that you have that too – thanks K
The word “home” is difficult for me. I was raised by loving parents in a strong family, but my Dad’s army career meant that we moved a lot – so the sense of a place as home is something I never knew. In my adult life, for a variety of reasons, usually work or education related – I’ve kept moving. In many ways, I’m still looking for a home that means what yours obviously does to you.
Tony – I had similar experience – my dads job moved us alot – this was the 11th house I had lived in and ended up living there for a decade. I learned home was where ever we hung our hats! This house was a singular place – a place that I changed and in turn the place changed me. Would be happy for you to read more about it – have written quite a bit under the category The Last Really Good Shack. Thanks so much for dropping by! K
Thank you for sharing this beautiful memory.
Thank you so much for reading and commenting – K
Aww… this really touched me, the nostalgic memories… especially the ending. Thanks for sharing them.
Thanks, Laurie – happy you stopped by! K
Definitely the first family home sticks forever, regardless of the seasons ~ I like how you turn this dirty place into a well scrubbed home full of love and solemn beauty ~
Thanks Grace – it was a total wreck – wouldn’t even go into the house until my husband had cleaned it out. And then it was well and truly scrubbed! K
smiles…that first home that you live in def carries the memories doesnt it…smiles…the place i lived the year before we were married, ha…had such character and we still laugh about…we went straight to an apartment which was so tiny but a great first place….smiles…love all the life and nature you were surrounded by as well…
Brian It was an experience for sure! We had owned several homes before this but the shack became my ‘hearts true home’. It was my first time living in the country – so the ‘nature’ part was a real lesson for this town girl! Thanks as always for dropping by – always appreciate it! K
I love the history of the family home that you have shared.
You said memory eases the sadness. So true of homes we leave, but memories of a family home are stronger than most, I believe.. I hear you when at the end you call it ‘heart’s true home.’ When I think of the word ‘home’ I still think oftentimes of my CHILDHOOD home, which I left decades ago!
I have written many posts about our Last Really Good Shack (you can see them under that category if interested) – it was a true ramshackled old thing we bought in NW Arkansas and lived in for 10 years. It really did become one of the great loves of my life. My family moved so often that this was the longest I had ever lived in a home and the first time in the country. Quite a new experience for a town girl! Thanks for dropping by, Mary – so appreciate your time! K