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Summer Breeze is playing

The best part about living in the
Mississippi Hills is the abundance of
woods and forest.  The smell of Pine
is a close second to heaven.  I can sit
on the porch in the summertime,
take a deep breath, and smell all
the wonderful smells of the outdoors.
If I am lucky, there is a breeze......
and most of the time there is.

In the Mississippi Summers
we have spent hours as a family
sitting on the front porch,rocking,talking,
and sharing good times together that
words can not describe. There is a bond that
can not be broken....and memories that
can not be forgotten.  They are stored
in the heart and soul of my being.
I sat down one day as the breezes were
stirring....and the quiet was all around
to write a poem that might convey
to you what my Front Porch has meant to
my Family....This is what I wrote:


 

My Front Porch

The breeze is wrapping itself around the porch.
As I sit here, I feel it whipping the tendrils
of hair around my face ...
My memories are stirred.
The memories are sights, sounds,
and smells of another time.

Memories of Family and Laughter,
Remembering the  stories of school that day.
Daughter sitting on the floor at my feet...laughing.
Baby Daughter sitting in the  other chair listening intently.
Son sitting on the rail,feet propped up
As if he has a care in the world.

Daddy just came up.
He is the one today with tales,
Tales of the farm,
Tales of the tractor and cultivating cotton,
Tales of the snake he saw,
Tales of the long, long rows, and
Tales of love for the land and for what he does

Son watches.
He is engrossed in Daddy's Tales.
He is stirred to attention and begins asking questions.
Daddy...When can I drive that tractor?
Daddy...Can I help put cotton in the planter?
Daddy...Can I just help?
Sure, Son....tomorrow....then you'll have your tales.
Daddy says this with a smile.

Daughter has tales of her own.
She has tales of school,
Tales of how she felt sad when things didn't quite go her way,
Tales of friends,
Tales of things that she did that day that made her classmates laugh,
Tales of being so proud when she received that A on that test.
"Mama can I learn to drive your car?"
"Will you teach me?"
"Sure, Hon....tomorrow...
Then you will have your tales."
Mama says this with a smile.

Baby Daughter wants to be like Big Sister.
She has her own ideas.
She has ideas of being grown-up.
She weaves tales of a time when she has a boyfriend,
Tales of wanting to be grown up,
Tales of dressing up in old clothes from the trunk in the attic.
Sister, Will you teach me how to make my eyes
pretty and my nails shine?

"Sure, Baby", Sister says proudly...."tomorrow..."
"Then you will have your tales,"
Sister says this with a smile.

I am still sitting here when the sun goes down.
The breeze has quieted.
The Spring peepers are out.
I am still in my memories,
But the tractor sounds and two men coming up the gravel drive
Bring me back to today.
They sit on the steps and talk of the farm and the crop.
And I smile.

We three are sitting on the porch
when Daughter drives up the drive.
She is worn out from her new job.
She sits in the chair next to me and talks of her work.
She tells tales of her work and of her plans for the night.
And I smile.

Another car comes up the drive.
It is Baby Daughter's boyfriend.
She comes out ...screen door slamming.
He comes up with a wide grin on his young face.
"Oh she looks pretty!", he says, "She is all dressed up!"
They sit for a spell.
They tell tales of their plans and what their curfew is...
And I smile.

The breeze is wrapping itself around the porch.
This porch is old.
It has tales of its own.
Tales of family.
Tales of laughter.
Tales of happiness.
Oh what tales this porch could tell!!
I think that sometimes it even smiles.

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Poem Written by © Sweetmamapam
All rights reserved
This page created June 5, 1999
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