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 Come, let us play with the magic of alphabet... 
Learning to Read
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Here is a poem about a person returning home. There are many images in
this poem. As we walk along, we see images of childhood, now through the
eyes of an adult.
Of Summer's Lost
Of summer's lost and seasons crossed,
I beg my way back home.
I trod along by twilight moon,
through fields of honeycomb.
The silver stars are still the same.
Unchanged since boyish ponderings.
It's strange that they look brighter here
than in all my miles of wanderings.
I pass a mound where lies a friend
who used to greet me at the gate.
'Old Licorice Joe' died years ago.
He met a lonely bird dog's fate.
The creek where we kids used to fish
for minnows (just the size of fleas)
Looks shallow now and SMALLER too,
and I wade through with shivering knees.
I'm not sure where my buddies went
who once patrolled this rugged land.
We caught grasshoppers in our socks.
(We were a MOST courageous band).
The law and order of the West
was mostly won through our concern.
I'm glad to find things peaceful still,
as I 'the sheriff' now return.
But yet, I wonder what I sought…
to find out merely who I am ?
For all the miles led me right back
to this heavenly world of strawberry jam.
Written by
Steven Robert Heine
Click here
for poet's details
Written by
Steven Robert Heine
Click here for poet's details