Friday, May 19, 2017

A Home Song by Henry Van Dyke

This morning, my son-in-law drove by my old home. He took a picture with his cell phone and sent it to me. I loved that house--and my old neighborhood. Mike and I lived there for nearly forty years. I was sad to leave the home where my husband and I raised our daughter...and had spent most of our adult lives. I WAS happy to see that the new owners are taking good care of the place.

Last week, I posted a poem that I had written years ago about the home of my maternal grandparents. I didn't have time to write a poem about my old home this morning. Instead, I'm posting the following poem, which expresses my feelings better than I could at the moment:

A Home Song
by Henry Van Dyke

I read within a poet's book
A word that starred the page:
"Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage!"

Yes, that is true; and something more
You'll find, where'er you roam,
That marble floors and gilded walls
Can never make a home.

But every house where Love abides,
And Friendship is a guest,
Is surely home, and home-sweet-home:
For there the heart can rest.

Although I miss my old home, I am content now living next door to my daughter...and so happy that I can see my "grandgirls" every day!

Keisha has the Poetry Friday Roundup at Whispers from the Ridge.



Jane @ Raincity Librarian said...

How wonderful to see that a new family has moved into your old house, and are turning it into their dream home with such care. It's lovely to think of all the memories that are being made in that home.

I've lived in my current apartment for 8 years, which is the longest I've ever lived anywhere in my life. My parents are rolling stones, so we never stayed anywhere for too long. I can't imagine living in a single place for forty years - so many memories!

Linda B said...

I occasionally drive by our former home, but although I'm not next door, I'm much closer to my daughter now, & that pleases me. What a sweet poem about making a home, Elaine.

Whispers from the Ridge said...

Oh, how sweet! It is a nostalgic feeling to look back on all the memories made over so many years.

Tara said...

Such a sweet poem, Elaine. And how marvelous to live right next door to those beautiful grandchildren.

Mary Lee said...

Change can be both painful and joyous at the same time!

Linda Mitchell said...

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, the poet in you knows that so many of your words were birthed in that home. That the home is simply a structure and more a home to where your love lived. Henry Van Dyke captured that so nicely. Glad you can see your grandgirls. My kids don't have that--and I wish that they did.