I sit on my back porch and hear <br />Those lonesome turtle doves. <br />Sweet memories ever flood my mind, <br />Of long lost dreams and loves. <br /> <br />Country born and country reared, <br />I walked those cedared hills; <br />With moon as guide, I oft would hear <br />Those hooting owls and whippor-wills. <br /> <br />We hoed the corn and milked the cows, <br />Twas work most all the time; <br />We ate those ripe tomatoes, <br />Just picked from off the vine. <br /> <br />We fished and swam the streams and ponds, <br />Whenever chores were through; <br />With crops afield and animals, <br />Those moments were to few. <br /> <br />Our home was plain and simple, <br />It had no modern frills. <br />It was a haven to us all, <br />Set amid those pleasant hills. <br /> <br />Nostalgia grips us all at times. <br />These were my youthful loves; <br />Perhaps, some day, I shall return; <br />Do you hear those lonesome doves?<br /><br />Joseph Anderson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nostalgia-74/
