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Hazel Durham

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.

Submitted: Sunday, September 02, 2012
Edited: Sunday, September 02, 2012

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

About a day at the races with my boyfriend and daughter.

Comments about this poem (Coming Home by Hazel Durham )

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  • Khairul Ahsan (12/23/2013 9:07:00 PM)

    Your poem is so beautiful!
    '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.'
    An excellent expression! (Report) Reply

  • Dinesh Nair (6/30/2013 12:24:00 AM)

    Here your feelings are metamorphosed into images of reality and the splendour of nostalgia gets painted on the canvas of today and days ahead. (Report) Reply

  • Sandy Player (12/24/2012 4:06:00 PM)

    Security and comfort are ripe here. It's like a woven quilt and a lit fireplace(with the safety gaurd in place of course) ! (Report) Reply

  • Kelly Seale (9/20/2012 2:24:00 AM)

    Again, Hazel, You have so elequently penned a tribute to those you love, very Beautifully Written.; -)
    -Kelly. (Report) Reply

  • Mark Dillon (9/14/2012 9:07:00 AM)

    Lovely picture of words, well done Hazel. Hard to mention Punchestown without rain lol (Report) Reply

  • Mark Dillon (9/14/2012 9:02:00 AM)

    nice picture of words, , well done Hazel.Hard to mention Punchestown witout mentioning rain lol (Report) Reply

  • Dr.subhendu Kar (9/11/2012 3:30:00 PM)

    Gentleness oozes from your eyes like water over a smooth stone
    , love rejoices in eyes of beholder
    like fountain cascades drinking silver, oh what a imagery by light of love reflecting upon gloss of innocence, beautiful write,10+++, thanks for sharing (Report) Reply

  • Allemagne Roßmann (9/3/2012 6:57:00 AM)

    In Ireland so many compatriots died for the Irish language.It would have been really better with the Irish Gaelic language though english is the bull durham of your poem.You reckoned with your own roots in this poem and you liked it that connotes origin could not be defied.You like horses as most women do.They are bigaphrodisiac and do run well to enthrall.Fuchsia Belle could well be your personified self.In all a good memoir of those stones to pelt back home river, horses with belt and the eye on eye hazel blue.Appreciate (Report) Reply

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