My aunt never talked about her hopes and dreams. So it was a lovely surprise for me to read the following poem, which describes a wish that I, too, have had.
by Veneta Donaldson
I've longed to own a little plot of land
With boundary of maple and of oak;
A small white house with laughter in its heart,
And open arms for ordinary folk.
I've longed to gaze upon the setting sun,
To hear the plaintive note of cricket brood;
And watch the friendly yellow moon arise
And scale the sky for one that it has wooed.
I've longed to breathe the freshness of the soil
Just after plow has left its imprint there;
I've longed to own a little plot of land
So much the longing is akin to prayer.
The next poem in this series can be found here: Tornado Town.
A brief bio of Veneta Donaldson and the first poem of the series, can be found here: Veneta Donaldson: A Poet in the Family
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