My Place
By
Jenny Guttridge
Sunlight on blue water,
Mist on shrouded hills,
This place of moving magic,
Instils my soul with peace.
When I was just a young man,
My father brought me here,
Enchantment shifted on the
lake,
And bound my essence tight.
Seven mighty wonders,
They say this world contains,
I guess I dreamed of most of
them,
And been to see the rest.
Although I’ve travelled far
away,
I’m summoned to return,
The wonders of this big wide
world,
Can’t beat this place called
home.
The mountains and the pasture
lands,
The rivers, streams and
hills,
Are intrinsic parts of me,
And ones I can’t refuse.
These lands, that are my
father’s,
And, one day, shall be mine,
Are bone, and blood, and
tissue,
And rock, and root, and
stone.
My father and my brothers,
They know I love them, dear,
They to, are a part of me,
And serve to tie me here.
The hours I work are long and
hard,
The work I do is cruel,
I rope and tie, and cut and
brand,
I’ve always done my share.
I dig and drive, and fell and
ride,
My hands are ridged with
scars,
My eyes are faded by the sun,
I’ve shouted my voice hoarse.
I’ve never minded what I do,
To make this ranch work pay,
I’ve shot, I’ve killed for
what is mine,
And I’ll do it again today!
My shoulders broad, my belly
flat,
My back is straight and
strong,
I stand as tall as these
great trees,
That march across the shore.
When, at last my strength
departs,
My spirit goes to God,
Lay me low beneath this land,
In the place you know I love.