Almost

A rainbow over the river,
It doesn’t need much sun;
oil slicked ripples
are dancing.
This is home.

Home to eagle and crow,
to black bear and deer
and lately the lowly coyote.
There’s plenty of wild
on the roam.

It’s home to cabbages and kings,
to ordinary men, to those
who know hope
when hope could be
a stranger.

Home of dreams, some fading,
some flourishing in cabins and castles,
Imps and angels, both have mountains
to climb in quest of stars. This home…
it’s almost heaven.

 

4 thoughts on “Almost

  1. Sarah,

    a home of dreams your beautiful poem most surely is.

    Imps and angels, both have mountains
    to climb in quest of stars.

    I really love these lines!

    Thank you!

    as ever,
    Francina

    1. Francina,

      Many thanks to you! John Denver’s song “Country Roads” made “Almost Heaven, West Virginia” an unofficial state slogan for a time. It has now been changed to Montani semper liberi (Mountaineers are always free) .

      You always make me glad I write!

      Best,

      Sarah

  2. Thank you, Charlie

    It pleases me a great deal that you read my work (and even more that you like it!)

    I am a huge fan of your painting and your writing. You are a natural at both. So thanks, too, for the pleasure of your work.

    Best,
    Sarah

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