The House on Strawberry Hill

January 14, 2016
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Take me back to the house on Strawberry Hill

surrounded by wheat fields and fish ponds that grow now in my memory;

the smell of sweet jam and mint leaves in the garden,

dirt stained hands and overalls and barefeet,

the sun warming our bones and the hardwood floors

Lying staring at the stars and talking all night in the grass--

Those memories overwhelm me now of nights on Strawberry Hill, days of our misspent youth

when we were happy and young






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