Closed eyes refuse Sleep
my open mind sways
between the slumber and waking.
Distant fleeting faces come
as memories float like mist
taking me back to where they are.
Ray Conniff's smooth music
fills the warm summer air,
I take in the aroma of Mom's cooking,
and there's Dad reading his morning papers;
nostalgic thoughts like childlike wonder
all of them carry an unspeakable longing
...to be home again.
Copyright- cynthiabuhainbaello 07.09.13
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem