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A poem by Jared Barhite


Title:     Retrospection
Author: Jared Barhite [More Titles by Barhite]

I sit when the shadows are stealing
The light of departing day,
And think of the scenes and pleasures
I enjoyed in my childhood's play.

I can picture them all so plainly,
They seemed not a day gone by,
I recall the fields and garden,
The lake and the clear blue sky.

I can see the bright water flowing
At the foot of the sloping hill,
The dam that impeded its progress,
The toy-wheel of water-mill.

I can trace every line and feature
Of trees and the shadows they cast,
The lanes, the rocks, and orchards,
That on journey to school were past.

I can close my eyes for an instant
And draw a scene to my mind,
That seems like a photo-engraving,
As true, as complete, as defined.

Time's flight has not dim'd or shaded
One outline the scenes gave then,
Though the years that have intervened,
Are nearly two score and ten.

There's a central, attractive figure,
With heart unselfish and warm,
That always appears in the picture--
'Tis my mother's benignant form.

I can see her in all the beauty
And glow of a mother's pride,
As she patiently watched and labored
For her children at her side.

How sweet to my soul is the power
To so clearly these scenes portray;
I pray that to life's latest hour
This bliss be not taken away.

[The end]
Jared Barhite's poem: Retrospection