On Fridays, I often like to participate in a fun little writing exercise called “Five Minute Friday” at Lisa-Jo’s website, the Gypsy Mama. Simply write for five minutes, unedited, for the pure joy of writing. No editing allowed. Lisa-Jo provides a new prompt each Friday. Go ahead; try it– head to her place to submit one! Today’s prompt is one I found enjoyable and easy to write about:



Home is homegrown tomatoes, blueberries picked on the farm, fresh peaches, fried okra, black-eyed peas, cornbread, and sweetened iced tea.

Camellias and azaleas line the walk, and dogwoods blossom near Easter, each year. I walk amongst pine needles piled high… for they are ubiquitous in the place I call home.

Away from the neighborhood, from the town’s main road, I see the hills that wrap around us, covered in lush textures of green. I’ve been to one of the highest summits of the state in the midst of those mountains.

I remember big-hearted people, the welcoming “y’all” — and it’s just the way they talk down there… and when I’m there, I join in the same conversation. Even now, I can imagine I’m back in time, talking with my southern folk, Alabama hearts made from the same fabric as mine. I’m kinda homesick, y’all.

I had to pass through the town square each Sunday to get to church, the little ole’ Southern baptist church, where I heard Jesus being talked about. It’s the place I decided to follow him, just like that old hymn we used to sing.

My home– how I miss it, and will always be a part of me.