My Kansas HomeOn the plains of Western KansasWhere the buffalo used to roam I took root and grew there And claim it as my home. Pastures spread for miles around The cows come home at dusk Moseying by the corn field Where lay the empty husks. The sunset paints the colors So radiant in the sky Before the darkness curtains And quietness rests nearby. He carries pails of milk Walking towards their abode. There will be a spread Of garden crops he's hoed. She'll have fresh-baked bread And butter and honey, too. Striped bib overalls, And chambray shirt in view. The dim kerosene lamp Casts a ray upon the meal. They'll gather round the table, But in their hearts they'll kneel. __Joyce Roberts Lott
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