Fall

Just about this time of year
When summer winds are gone,
The leaves begin to whirl about
And frost lies on the lawn.
A crisp fall breeze nips our nose,
Cricket choruses have grown still,
Pumpkins dot the rolling fields
And cornstalks line the hills.
We have a subtle insistent yearning
To leave the turmoil and the strife,
And go to carefree childhood days
Turn back the kaleidoscope of life.
In an old New England kitchen
Where sight and smell collide
With the sounds of a wood fire crackling
As winds whistle and rave outside.
The sound of the spinning wheel
As it flickers in the oil lamp's glow,
The stove's warped top castings
Blushing from the heat just below.
With it's voracious appetite
The smell of spruce fills the room,
With it's warm, pungent odor
Cradling us within nostalgia's womb.

C.Lawry Brown's Questions:

I am striving to embrace a simpler time, to take the reader to my Grandmother's kitchen. Are the descriptions enough to make the reader, hear and smell the surroundings?  The last line gives me a bit of trouble.  The word nostalgia doesn't seem quite right, any suggestions?