Where the black top ends
And you find country green
A little house sets back upon a small hill
Peace and love grows there
A campfire lights the yard
And the silence of the night sings beauty
Sun setting rays are found
Amongst baby blue falling dark
Tree frogs baritone a belt
The locust hum
And fireflies illuminate the field
Stars they shine like diamonds and the moon serenades a dream
Peace is fresh every night
And heaven feels so close at hand
Blossoms sweet producing fruit
Giving to friends and family my pride of labor
Southern sweet tea and homemade breads
Fresh veggies and good conversation
Happens every week
At this place I call my home
Patricia Gale
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-place-i-call-home/
