Barefoot, I walked along the edge of the bayou
Where the child I had been, ran and laughed and played.
The cushiony emerald green grass I trod on
Tickled my feet and made my heart smile.

The old hickory tree was still there, brave and tall,
And small clouds floated above it, standing out
Like swatches of cotton against the denim sky,
The golden sun completed the heavenly picture.

A passing boat disturbed the water and its wake
Sent ripples of gold-brown water to the shore,
With little fingers reaching out to bathe and tickle
My tired and aching naked toes.

I saw again the other shore where long ago,
I gathered berries and climbed trees to pick muscadines. 
I saw the heavy vines we used to swing out over the bayou
And let go just at the right moment to drop into the water.

The little rustic house I lived in when I was young,
No longer stands.  Someone built a car-wash right where Grandpa's garden was,
And the State put in a new road and built a new bridge
Right where I used to tie up my little pirogue.

There is one thing no one can ever change, though.
No matter where I go or where I've been 
No matter what I've done, no matter the places I've seen,
The bayou will always be the home I hold in my heart.

~MizMo