Home Follows

I traveled on the cobblestone, 

This sweet and utter scent, 

It teases me with memories, 

Of often younger drenched. 

I quite remember yellow well, 

For it was my own suit, 

A squeaky bib would cover me, 

Protected in pursuit. 

Then I heard the bus come round, 

The TST of rough side stop, 

The noise was nothing special, 

But to me it wasn’t not. 

It brought me back to yellow ‘gain, 

The stop sign propping out, 

As I got on the school bus, 

Off to second grade no doubt. 

As I sat down the furthest seat, 

I thought that it was strange, 

For what was this world telling me? 

This life was much the same. 

Then a man with ruffled beard, 

Climbed on the bus behind me, 

Although I knew that it was wrong- 

His scent did come to blind me. 

The smell of some from herbal roots, 

Did drift upon my nose, 

And then again, I sat entrap, 

In memories of home. 

For normally by right this time, 

Id begin to gack,  

The motion of this city bus, 

Made this stomach of mine yack. 

But what a quite phenomenon, 

A mystery indeed, 

For as I sat along the route, 

There's nothing under me. 

I simply lay in front the stove, 

Of smokey burning wood, 

Along the floor my dogs were there, 

Panting blatantly as they would, 

These yellow walls of comfort, 

Started gently to display, 

A bunch of golden memories, 

Id withered all away. 

I noticed then that I had shrunk, 

At least a couple feet. 

My mother then did enter, 

And a flood of tears did beat. 

This bus ride didn't challenge me, 

It simply nudged me up, 

No motion sickness on this day, 

Yet homesickness snuck afoot.