I sit on my back porch and hear
Those lonesome turtle doves.
Sweet memories ever flood my mind,
Of long lost dreams and loves.
Country born and country reared,
I walked those cedared hills;
With moon as guide, I oft would hear
Those hooting owls and whippor-wills.
We hoed the corn and milked the cows,
Twas work most all the time;
We ate those ripe tomatoes,
Just picked from off the vine.
We fished and swam the streams and ponds,
Whenever chores were through;
With crops afield and animals,
Those moments were to few.
Our home was plain and simple,
It had no modern frills.
It was a haven to us all,
Set amid those pleasant hills.
Nostalgia grips us all at times.
These were my youthful loves;
Perhaps, some day, I shall return;
Do you hear those lonesome doves?
by Joseph Anderson