MAINE
There was a place
that you could go
where life and time
moved ever slow.
'Twas as a child
I traveled there
to sit and dream,
to breathe the air.
I'd run and play
amid the trees
and watch the flight
of bumblebees.
The smell of pine
was ever there
and ocean breeze
got in my hair.
And o'er the rocks
upon the shore
I'd climb all day
and ask for more.
Then at day's end
we'd lie awake
to hear the sounds
the night would make.
I'd stare up at
the jet black sky,
watch shooting stars
and wonder, why?
How much I miss
those gentle times:
the warmth of sun,
that coast sublime!
Oh take me back
once more to gaze
on childhood haunts
and golden days.
K.Tate Jacoby
copyright August 2000
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