I can’t recall a time, before Goleta the Goodland
It lingers in the veins, this destination of decency
It’s flavor a recollection of pleasant ideas
It’s sky a foggy memory to behold
I’ve not come across another town like it
It calls to the soul for a return
To smell the sea, hear the gulls, and swim it’s peopled currents
There is a time when you can see the heart of the town
It’s not at festivals or parades as is the norm of others
But at moments of elation in our children, their graduations and events
Traveling through the throng, you can see and hear pride and joy wistfully on the wind.
Goleta is a grand home, it’s land beautifully sculpted as if God wished for one single sanctuary on Earth
Maybe, perhaps, when I am a better man, I’ll be worthy to return
Categories: Modern Poetry Prose Uncategorized
abnormalvaverage
I'm a high school English teacher in Texas. I also hold degrees in radiography and radio and television broadcasting. Though I obtained certain knowledge and skills from my prior degrees, I do not currently use them.
Leave a Reply