By Jacob Beach in February 2019
You never know the sounds that you miss
when coming home to that old familiar bliss.
Walking through these hallowed halls
the sounds, the smells, the memories, great and small-
Dis-enthralls the wave of emotion
Giving way to the many commotions.
“She was the one who held my hand,” -or-
“Never did she withdraw from her stand.”
These and more flooded in while walking through
My family and friends within my view.
Passing each one I'm glad to see
My home has finally come to a “T.”
Even though these many years
some filled with solitude others with peers,
I remember each one so fondly,
Even though some have been lost in their folly.
Still I walk through life's many syndromes
But I endure with the thought of coming home.
The pain of the child that once was lost,
the joy of the knowledge that does not exhaust.
I too will see them once again-
The great Plan of Happiness of The Old Craftsman.
He has assured my home is secured,
but the maladies of this life are not detoured.
I've made this home with my husband,
although he has passed and so it has darkened.
Still the sickness of sadness is overpowered-
with the love and memories of my departed.
Soon I shall walk the path he has trodden-
wait is that him as a beacon?
My family, my friends what wails I hear,
But this light I see of my love one dear.
“I'm sorry I can't stay to dry your tears-
for I have a few of my own to have disappear.
Please don't be sad for my path is not monochrome,
As now I see that I'm coming home.”
“Do you remember what I hoped I instilled,
this life is not all, but only to fulfill.
Our experiences together teach us our lessons,
But it is to prepare and guide us in the Plan of Salvation.
I'll see you again in the home that awaits,
for our Savior's Sacrifice surely narrates.”
“Though the ailments of life surely do carry
A certain weight of sorrow and beauty,
He has provided us a way to remain undeterred.
Have faith, have hope, for nothing is stronger,
Then that of the gift of Priesthood Power.”
Though I continue on my way to prepare your home,
I hope that you will remember my good old poem.
Stay true on the path of life's hippodrome,
And you will find peace in those wise old Tome's.
For this is the sound I hope won't dull like chrome,
My voice as I call when you are coming home.
You never know the sounds that you miss
when coming home to that old familiar bliss.
Walking through these hallowed halls
the sounds, the smells, the memories, great and small-
Dis-enthralls the wave of emotion
Giving way to the many commotions.
“She was the one who held my hand,” -or-
“Never did she withdraw from her stand.”
These and more flooded in while walking through
My family and friends within my view.
Passing each one I'm glad to see
My home has finally come to a “T.”
Even though these many years
some filled with solitude others with peers,
I remember each one so fondly,
Even though some have been lost in their folly.
Still I walk through life's many syndromes
But I endure with the thought of coming home.
The pain of the child that once was lost,
the joy of the knowledge that does not exhaust.
I too will see them once again-
The great Plan of Happiness of The Old Craftsman.
He has assured my home is secured,
but the maladies of this life are not detoured.
I've made this home with my husband,
although he has passed and so it has darkened.
Still the sickness of sadness is overpowered-
with the love and memories of my departed.
Soon I shall walk the path he has trodden-
wait is that him as a beacon?
My family, my friends what wails I hear,
But this light I see of my love one dear.
“I'm sorry I can't stay to dry your tears-
for I have a few of my own to have disappear.
Please don't be sad for my path is not monochrome,
As now I see that I'm coming home.”
“Do you remember what I hoped I instilled,
this life is not all, but only to fulfill.
Our experiences together teach us our lessons,
But it is to prepare and guide us in the Plan of Salvation.
I'll see you again in the home that awaits,
for our Savior's Sacrifice surely narrates.”
“Though the ailments of life surely do carry
A certain weight of sorrow and beauty,
He has provided us a way to remain undeterred.
Have faith, have hope, for nothing is stronger,
Then that of the gift of Priesthood Power.”
Though I continue on my way to prepare your home,
I hope that you will remember my good old poem.
Stay true on the path of life's hippodrome,
And you will find peace in those wise old Tome's.
For this is the sound I hope won't dull like chrome,
My voice as I call when you are coming home.
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