The Mountain Laurel
The Journal of Mountain Life

Visit us on FaceBookGenerations of Memories
from the
Heart of the Blue Ridge

In Reverie

By Hazel P. Hedrick © 1986

Issue: July, 1986

The House where once my family lived
Lay crumpled in a heap,
Just rotting boards and rusty nails
Where children used to sleep.
I touched the branches of a tree
still standing proud and tall.
I ran my hand along the logs
which used to be a wall.

Where wind and rain would play and dance
Thru summer, fall and spring,
Pulled off my shoes and waded thru
cold water to the spring.
I sat beside a rippling stream
And listened to the sound
Of children playing in the yard,
Heard bees buzzing around.

I saw some scenes from yesteryear
When Happiness was free.
I heard my mother's voice
The way it used to be.
Tears filled my eyes, streamed down my face
Retracing time gone by,
Recalling precious memories,
Re hearing babies cry,

Re-catching little minnows
From a puddle in the creek.
Re helping baby brothers
Learn to crawl, to walk and speak.
I walked alone in reverie
Beneath a cloudless sky,
Remembering the way it was
Before the years passed by.

I plucked a violet with my toes
And held it in my hand,
Remembering my mother's smile
How she would understand,
When I would make some small mistake
Or fall and skin my knee,
And if I disobeyed her wish
How she would chastise me.

With birds and bees and butterflies
Still flitting in the sun,
I thanked God for these memories
Of joys and fears and fun,
To keep me upright on life's road,
To keep my head on straight,
For parents like the two I had
So loving, strict and great.