The Porch Swing

I really like this poem because it says exactly how I feel. It was inspired by my pastor at church when he proffered the question. We all have a place or memory that draws us back to a gentler time in our past and or a place and that we should recall it, let it embrace us and let the warmth of it nurture our souls. This was my place, my mother always had a porch swing, one on her front porch and one hung from the live oak tree at the old place. My brother, Gene, and I sat with my mother a many a morning and afternoon with a glass of iced tea and just shared each other. It was there that I cried and literally sobbed on my mother's shoulder after my wife had left me for another man. It was there that my brother, Gene, confessed that he had accepted Jesus Christ as his personal savior and I remember Mama jumping up and down and praising God and shouting hallelujahs! My brother got saved and I got healed.

Quiescence is a word that’s best understood

When I hear creaking chains and weathered wood

The sound of idle laziness and peaceful repose

Relaxed southern leisure while eyelids doze

The aroma of magnolia and pine airily disbursed

Genteel politeness was so meekly rehearsed

Iced tea and parched peanuts was our fare

Familiar affections wafted gently in the air

The calm pentameter of the porch swing cries

Of our mother’s embrace and childhood lullabies

Peaceful remembrance came so easily then

Discourse of God and sweet salvation Amen!

On cool mornings as oft in afternoon’s twilight

The family gathered to our mother’s delight

Quietly we swung to the simple rhythm of life

Warmth and love soothing our internal strife

In the swing under the live oak tree I did confess

That God’s sweet mercy had healed my hopelessness

Oh! But could I once more sit with them there again

With my mother and brother in that old porch swing