My Home Town: Lyrical Sunday (Week 12)

Two places resonate in my mind with the words ‘home town’;

The hilly, coastal scene,
Of my married years and where I currently call home.

The gentle, rolling landscape,
Of my growing years, which will forever be home too.

The first…

The home I now live, is where I’m raising my young,
A city set in hills, where the wind is strong.

A home of dramatic landscapes and weather.
Where the sound of Cicadas mark the start of Summer.

My children run bare-foot on endless sands,
Singing Maori songs and clapping their hands.

The yellow of the Kowhai tree calls in Spring,
The red Pohutukawa blooms do summer bring.

In Autumn few trees shed their leaves,
In this land of native evergreens.

In Winter the colourful houses stand,
Defiant against the southerly gales.
Perched on hills, precariously balanced,
Watching over the harbour and billowing sails.

A city of ever changing vistas,
That holds an energy of some great force.
On Earths great plates the city teeters,
Where the need for coffee is great, of course.

The second…

Long summer days, dancing round the Oak trees.
Playing in the garden, listening for the ice-cream van.

Running over fields, rich with golden corn.
In awe of what nature yields, as I watch a young fawn.

Searching for conkers, with booted feet and gloved hands.
Picking blackberries, with juice smeared lips.

Sharp cold winters, pink cheeks and dragon breath.
Crackling bonfires, twinkling lights & chattering teeth.

Running in bluebell fields, watching rabbits dart from sight.
Long Sunday walks & country pub lunches.

Saturday markets, buying fruit and flowers,
Visiting castles, old houses and towns.

Taking a row boat, along the river,
With weeping willows skirting the water.

Crossing fields and stiles, with a right to roam,
Imagining travellers of long ago.

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Now it’s your turn! I can’t wait to read your poems about what ‘home town’ means to you. If you haven’t written a poem yet, don’t worry! The linky will remain open all week.

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