Preface:
Growing up on a tree farm in central Ohio, some of my fondest memories are those of my dog Ben, a black lab. We would frequently play along the crick (creek) and pick tiger lilies to bring back to my grandmother. A part of me is always stretching to reach that peace that I had, living in the country. Living in the city stresses me so much that I must daily gather all my energy just to cope with all the people.
Where do the lilies bloom?
They brought me peace
They cleared the gloom
Along the crick they lit the way
As Ben and I would always play
The brook babbled over rock and stone
Following banks to lead us home
But home was not wear we were meant to go
We created dams to and fro
Following our hearts the grassy blades
Chasing rabbits among the glades
The farm in our blood, the trees in our soul
The freedom within our only goal
But what now of life and sullied past
The country’s gone the gloom is cast
The brooks are dry and Ben is dead
My childhood gone but left instead
A skeleton stands tall and true
Dark clouds surround and follow through
Circling in endless storm
No break in clouds and perfect form
I search for peace, to find the room
To see the crick where lilies bloom