A home I call my own

Lookout onto an island
hear Atlantic’s roar
remember all the emigrants
salt tears upon seashores.

Energies that were drained
from laid potato drills
cottages lying idle
stonewalled lonely hills.

A figure in a hooker
upon raging rolling waves
fighting now that savage beast
it’s heritage for to save.

Imprints of our ancestors
on every cornerstone
thankful for their sacrifice
from a home I call my own.

Jpoet7 ( #doolan317 ) ( @wordverse.me )