Poetry Sunday

Coming Home
***

We couldn’t stay in Texas,
where sun and warmth abound.
The grass is green, the trees in bloom
in autumn no crunchy sound.

I longed to live in Nebraska
once again I would see snow
with family all around us;
this is where I knew I’d grow.

A huge farm and green grass
cottonwood trees galore.
Where was all this beauty
in the place I was before?

Nebraska holds a tenderness
a purity unseen.
The people seem to be in a warp
of the old time machine.

They wave as your car passes,
they’re friendly and sincere.
Impressive hospitality,
of all that I hold dear.

Golden rows of cornstalks,
kiss the sun good morning.
Animals wander on the road
without any warning.

I wonder if Nebraskans know
there’s something here to treasure.
Things this city gal holds dear,
with love beyond all measure.

God has taken a gentle hand
and shown to them His grace.
Placed love and gracious kindness
upon Nebraska’s face.