Wednesday, June 19, 2024


Day lilies wave us in like a plane approaching its gate.

 Big bossy peonies greet us at the end of the drive.

The creek trickles by singing "Welcome Home!"

Peepers around the pond add their loud squeaky salutations.

A soft light in a window. 

Beat up leather recliner, dusty baker's rack filled with dustier old crystal.


. . . and more books

Old quilts hanging on the walls

along with photographs, art work, needlework, old mismatched dishes and hats, not a blank space to be found.

Ducks painted by Donald, age 8, awaiting our return from its place of honor at the top of the stairs.


. . . and a few more books

Shelves scattered with stuff - fine china and hand thrown pottery, seashells, candles, ironstone pitchers, mama's old imari, wise old owls, funny little bunny with a broken ear, heart shaped rocks, a mix of old and new, the good and the not so good but no less cherished.

Michael's old fire screen.

My dad's favorite sweater.

. . . and a few more books

Antique dressers topped with more stuff; Aunt Belle's Waterford sits next to Earl's tiny yellow school bus

Small lamps to light the dark corners; the better to see the dust bunnies.

Quilts and throws and pillows tossed onto chairs, baskets filled with old magazines and travel guides, a partially knitted scarf (10 years in the making).

Another basket filled with doggie toys to be randomly rediscovered with joy and jubilation by Annabelle, Queen of the Corgis.

A big old bowl, cracked but still beautiful, filled with fun sized Butterfingers, Heath Bars, Kisses and Truffles and Jelly Beans.

Coffee that tastes like home.

A kitchen that guarantees cookies for peeps and doggos. (read bag carefully).

Lotions and potions, creams and conditioners, capsules and tablets and pills and prescriptions right where they should be in a bathroom that's too small but somehow just right.

A welcoming bed with soft linen sheets, old feather pillows, and a faded old quilt.

Nightstand topped with a steno pad and a pen, a phone we rarely answer, tissues and floss and eye drops and lip balm and just a few books; Pat Conroy, Billy Collins and Mary Oliver to wish me sweet dreams.



Lesa said...

That's a heartfelt poem, Kaye. Just beautiful. And, I can just see your cozy home. I know how happy and contented you all are to be home.

K Barley said...

The only thing that might make me any happier, Lesa, would be if I were reading the next J. D. Robb! 😉😉😉😘