Traveling is my secret passion;
Oftentimes, I love to roam.
But when asked, I like to tell folks
Of the mountains I call home.
Home, to me, is Smoky Mountains
With her mists floating towards the sky;
Bright profusion of wild flowers,
Autumn colors that blind the eye.
Honeysuckle, Rhododendron,
Pine trees standing proud and tall,
Snaking, winding Pigeon River,
Thunderous, awesome waterfalls.
Home, to me, is rolling farm lands,
Cattle grazing on the hill;
Gray blue mountains that surround me
And the call of whippoorwills.
Home, to me, is knowing neighbors;
Waving, nodding as we pass;
Stopping by to chat with others
And a pace that’s not so fast.
Born and raised within the foothills
Of the Smokies of Tennessee,
No matter where that I may travel,
The mountains will be home, to me.
Copyright © 1998 by moleta ruth mccarter. All rights reserved.
