Poetry Corner

My Home in the Pines

by Cy Rollins

Oh how I would long to be back in my home

by the big pine tree: yes!

Back in my home by the Pine,

where a good man would love to be just any old time.

Where the mills run both day and night

and put out lumber that is just right,

the chain saws run from dawn to dusk

without much fuss.

Yes, how I would love to be back in my home

by The Old Pine Tree.

Where in the spring the flowers bloom,

and smell like Paris’s most lovely perfume,

and the streams are filled with fish just right

and you can get your limes without much fight.

Yes! How I would love to be back in my home

by The Old Pine Tree.

A man just works from spring to fall

knocking down the pines so tall,

and when the snow gets too deep

a man can put his feet in the oven and sleep;

then when there comes a spring so bright,

and a man has rested up just right,

he loves to work from dawn to night.

He does his work with a lot of thought,

and gets it done just like he ought.

Oh yes! How I would love to be back in my home

by The Old Pine Tree.

Cy Rollins’ Army Portrait

About the Poem: This poem was written while Rollins was in the army, homesick in Okinawa during World War II.