Hermitage
My father birthed near to shores,
the beach it listened and waves roared,
as seagulls cried a haunting tune
over the salty shores of home.
That family place- our heart -our home
no matter where our bodies roam
our spirits return to this place,
to the salty shores of home.
I can't wait to feel that ocean spray
from this ocean I've been so long away
the waves they call- my heart it goes
to the salty shores of home.
Again her shores I soon will see
as I visit with my family tree
and reminisce of those who at rest linger
overlooking the salty shores of home.
Author notes
***********updated july 9 2009 using some of nomdeplums changes and some of my own- thanks for the help on this one Michael*************the house on the far right is the one my dad built in 1967- the year i was born( actually once the roof was one- he built it around me. the house to the left of it is my dads sisters house(aunt Clara) then next to that is my Grandparents house(my dads parents) then next to that is my Dads brothers house( uncle Eli)...and immediately left of his house is the little house I will be staying in- it is now owned by my dads younger sister(aunt Georgina) who bought it from her cousin Leanord Abbot-)who lives in ontario but is letting me use her place while i am home. below it is the fish plant which is the major employer of the town. the area wehre these house are located is known as "the point" by local resisdents- we were the Shorts from "out on the point"- there are two other house on the point- one is my motehrs aunt and uncle and one is an inlaw to my moms sister. it was a great place to live and I cant wait to get back for a visit.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Hey there... a "mind full" write with a relaxed pace as the story unfolds. Just a quick nit... possibly remove "the" at the beginning of L3 to avoid overuse etc.
Great seeing you still writing. Hope things are well with you and yours.
Take care,
Don the Monk
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Sir Monk, I have removed the the on the third line- much better...my friend Nomdeplume(Michael) rewrote the pice after I asked for input...his version is below and I think much smother than mine original
My fathers birth so near this shore
the beach, it listened, and the waves they roared
as seagulls cried a haunting tune
over the salty shores of home.
The family place, our heart its home
no matter where our bodies roam
our spirits return to this sacred place
and the salty shores of home.
I can not wait to feel the spray
from this ocean, I've been so long away
the sea she calls, my heart to come
to the salty shores of home.
Again her shores I soon will see
reliving each branch of my ancestral tree
as wet-salt schooners weigh anchor in the bay
against the salty shores of home.
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Very Nice
I like the sentiment of course, and I too was born on the shore
Very nice imagery and good diction. I might try to avoid the repetition of "home" in the first line of the second verse.
Keep up the good work!
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hmm... very peacefull and serene, i likes it... wish my home was like this
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How sweet !
You are fortunate enough having such a sweet home in a seabeach. I visited your home through your words by my sixth sense.Lovely! You live in a lovely place enriched with seaside natural beauties.You are like a bird who leaves home at dawn for livelyhood but sure returns in it's nest at dusk. Thanks! -
your poem was beautiful and so full of memeries of family youth and times gone by its lovely to revisita place that has so much of familylove that makes it even more special it was a place well worth every word you have written and leaves the reader spea
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This is amazing!
A well written rhyme and the sentiment of home hit right on the head!
Bravo my friend!
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thank you my friend- i was looking at pics of home and it inspired this piece-this is a first take no edit version- any thoughts you have to clean it up would be appreciated.
Peace
Terry
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Awwwww Terry, I really love this write and can feel your yearning to see 'home' again after all this time.
This is really lovelyy.. I will really look forward to how your muse will so come alive with more like this when you return .
Beautifuul.
Ann
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I expect my writing will follow that line of thought for some time now
Ann. thanks for stopping by to read
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It is a hardship being homesick. I miss my grandparent’s home in Uledia, Pa. In that little valley, all my dad's relatives built their homes and lived within walking distance of one another. My goodness… I can remember walking all over that little area so many times in my youth.
I feel the nostalgia and the wonderfully heartfelt sentiments. Go home, and let the closeness marinate in your spirit so that when you return to your present home your memories will endure.
This is a lovely work of poetry my friend.
Always ♥
Renee
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thank you Renee, home is always home but when you are from newfoundland- thta home always calls to you in yor dreams and your waking hours.
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