Take my hand
Let me lead you
To a land
That is new
And grand
With a sea of blue
And a beach of white sand
Created just for you
So come and stand
With me by the yew
About the Creator
Mother Combs
Come near, sit a spell, and listen to tales of old as I sit and rock by my fire. I'll serve you some cocoa and cookies as I tell you of the time long gone by when your Greats-greats once lived.
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More stories from Mother Combs and writers in Poets and other communities.
Home
“Home.” It’s a sound I’ve heard many, many times. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I do know that it scared me. Whenever I heard that word spoken about one of my friends, I never saw them again. I missed my friends. I missed the ball games we used to play, and the wrestling matches we’d have while rolling around on the grass in the garden.
By Cathy holmes6 days ago in Petlife
Comments (5)
Awww, this was so sweet and lovely! Beautiful poem!
I love the contrast of the newness with the ancient yew.
Love this!
Oh this was gorgeous 😍
Nice Piece ❤️📝😊🍂😎