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?