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        My Long Ago Home



When I travel the mountain roads of my youth
I have a sweet feeling of home
of fried apple pies and Mama's voice.
I think of the chocolate candy Daddy made
that was so soft we ate it with a spoon
but was made with so much love
nothing every tasted so good.
~~~~~~
I remember the table Daddy made
with a bench next to the wall
the red and white checkered table cloth.
The coffee pot on the wood cook stove
chicken dumpling's on Sunday
and the delicious smell of pinto beans.
~~~~~~
The shelf in the corner Daddy made
for the water bucket full of pure spring water.
When I want to remember the good times
I travel the mountain roads of my youth.
And think about my long ago home
Mama and Daddy made

~~~~~~

Poem By
Clara Strickland Brinkley
copyrightę2002
































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