The leaves lay dead on the Georgia clay
Browns and reds flood my vision
The sound of crickets and birds plays in the background
The world is cool and calm in such a small place

There is little to do but watch the world turn
Watch the seasons change from fall to winter
The streams rush slow as time fades by
The wildflowers bloom in shades of violet and white

The deer smell the air and roam the woods
Avoiding danger and in search of food
The rabbits hop in the lush green fields
The brown earth crumbles beneath my feet

The clay in Georgia fills a void in my heart
Florida’s hot sand can not compare
The palm trees sway unlike that of the old live oaks
The smell of salt fills my nose

I live in Florida, but my soul belongs to Georgia
The sand cannot replace the clay
The palms are nothing like the weeping live oaks
The gorgeous sound of nature cannot be replaced by the waves

I have seen the waves crash on the sand
The boats sitting in the sun-warmed river
But the world back in Georgia
Will forever be my home away from home