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My Long Ago HomeWhen 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 copyright©2002 Vote for this poem
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