When the rain ceases,
And dusk creeps in quietly,
When the west glows with proud orange,
Then I'll know—
It's time to go home.
I'll gather the flock and the herd,
Wade through the evening dust,
And down the hill I'll go,
With a heart easy to please,
A foolish smile on my face,
To a cabin at the edge of town,
Where my soul resides.
Thank you Rolph for your kind words! I'm so glad the poem resonated with you. It means a lot to know that the imagery and emotions I tried to convey were able to evoke such a deep connection.
I love this, a simplicity captured beautifully. Thanks, Naomi
Sun 12th Jan 2025 13:26
Naomi,
I love your poem because it beautifully captures the feeling of returning to a place that holds deep personal meaning. The way you describe the quiet moments—the rain ceasing, dusk creeping in, and the orange glow of the west—makes it feel like a gentle transition, a peaceful return to something that grounds you. The imagery of gathering the flock and heading down the hill with a light heart creates a sense of fulfillment, as if the journey itself is just as important as the destination. It’s a lovely reminder of the comfort and solace that home offers. I really felt that warmth in your words.
Fantastic piece!
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Naomi
Sun 12th Jan 2025 17:59
Thank you Yanma Hidayah.