When an early morning dee jay
featured "Precious Memories"
my heart turned to home.
Though I love this land I live in
I still miss the sights
and sounds I grew up on.
Through my memory floats a farm house
with the sugarcane
slow dancing in the breeze.
Shaded from the world at large,
a picture perfect, set in
moss-draped, old oak trees.
I see Mama in her apron
and my Papa
in his worn out faded jeans.
I can almost taste the waters
of the bayou
that once bathed all my dreams.
The sun sets on a field of cotton
and the smell of
sweet magnolias fill the air.
My memory embraces scenes
of squeaking old
porch swings and rocking chairs.
I can see us before supper
with our heads bowed low
to thank the Lord in prayer.
Then later, after dishes,
Papa'd read, Mama'd sing
and God was there.
Those were days of building
character and values
that I still accept as fact.
A silent tear escapes my eye
as Precious Memories
put on wings to take me back.
Memory Is A Gift Of God,
(c)Doris Jacobs-Covington
"I thank my God upon every
remembrance of you."
Philippians 1:3
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