The Place that I Call Home

In my rush to prepare for my departure, I have not posted as much as I should.  I shall try to do better with what time I have left.

This poem was one I wrote some time ago about the area I grew up in, and the one I am preparing to leave for a while.  Whether you come from the heart of the United States or somewhere far removed, I hope this reminds you about all that you love about your home.

Deep in my country’s heart

is a place beloved by me;

near to my own heart

it will forever be.

Here I was born,

grew up and so

here I’d be glad

to live till I go.

I’ve been many places

and, wonderful though they be,

none is quite as home

as Missouri is to me;

A place of such beauty,

not greater - but unique;

a beauty that, oft times,

makes it hard to speak.

It steals the words from my mind

and places them in my heart,

sealing my lips so that

the words cannot them part.

Words of verdant green,

both hills and sinking dale;

words of the blue

of the sky most pale.

Mere words that cannot grasp

my love for the trees

that shelter and shade,

that sway in the breeze.

Never all silent,

this life-teeming place,

some cricket or bird

with song doth us grace.

Each and every season

a wonder to behold,

from the winter, white,

to the autumn, gold.

The glory of a sunset

and it’s waking rise,

a sight that gladdens the heart

and brightens the eyes.

On none of these we have

a monopoly,

but here they are dearer,

dearer unto me.

Here my heart is,

here it will stay

no matter where I go,

near or far away.

May all who come

share this love with me

of this chosen place,

living, fresh and free.

Newcomer, or native

who far did roam,

welcome here to

the place that I call home.

David Jamison