Coming Home
Punchestown races a glorious extravaganza,
You had a flutter on Fuchsia Belle,
Tall white haired man, softest baby blue eyes,
Everything new and wondrous to you,
Without any fuss you showered your warmth,
Outside the rain lashed down relentlessly,
All together we were like long lost pals,
As you wove your pure spell,
Watching as horses fell, virgin territory
For the farmer with plenty of charm,
Never doing anybody any harm,
A life dedicated to your beloved farm.
Years have passed many changes taking place,
Lover of nature, plenty of patience as you work at your own pace,
Gentleness oozes from your eyes like water over a smooth stone,
You hold my hand, i feel i am coming home.
poem by Hazel Durham
Added by Poetry Lover
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