DORNHOLZHAUSEN David Pond
March 2009
We returned the same way familiar to us
To Bad Homburg vor der Taunus
The roads have been changed, we figured
Rearranged and reconfigured
The old white tower can still be seen
But the trees are new on that field of green.
On the face of buildings, the same color stone
But with new name alone, and with trees grown.
The kindergarten is yet colorful, ready for play
Traffic winds past the corner in the same old way
Dornholzhausen, clustered before the mountain meadow
Still feels the passing of sun and shadow.
I looked around to see the fair ones
That once clustered about me,
Their bright blond hair, their happy blue eyes
Still loving their father.
Haven taken them through foreign skies
I see the walks their happy feet walked
And the rooms in which they happy slept and happy talked.
Whenever I wander vor der Taunus
I want those with love bound to us
Dornholzhausen kinder of bright and blonde and blue
Though the years be reeling, I am still there, happy with you.
We returned the same way familiar to us
To Bad Homburg vor der Taunus
The roads have been changed, we figured
Rearranged and reconfigured
The old white tower can still be seen
But the trees are new on that field of green.
On the face of buildings, the same color stone
But with new name alone, and with trees grown.
The kindergarten is yet colorful, ready for play
Traffic winds past the corner in the same old way
Dornholzhausen, clustered before the mountain meadow
Still feels the passing of sun and shadow.
I looked around to see the fair ones
That once clustered about me,
Their bright blond hair, their happy blue eyes
Still loving their father.
Haven taken them through foreign skies
I see the walks their happy feet walked
And the rooms in which they happy slept and happy talked.
Whenever I wander vor der Taunus
I want those with love bound to us
Dornholzhausen kinder of bright and blonde and blue
Though the years be reeling, I am still there, happy with you.
We had a wonderful time driving through Frankfurt, Bad Hamburg and Dornholzhausen. Wonderful memories were brought to mind. Thank you, kids, for giving us wonderful times as a family. I know that these places gave each one of you mixed emotions and feelings, but we as a family were still together and we could accomplish anything together.
Applestrudel-on-the-Rhine
We then drove up the Rhine and stopped for lunch. I hope that each of you are a little jealous of those delicious desserts. Perhaps the next time we can all do it together again sometime.
Applestrudel-on-the-Rhine
Raspberries anyone?
8 comments:
Beautiful. Do you still have the china that we found under the porch?
I think that Belle ended up with the dishes. You will have to ask her, but there is a English pink plate that we have used for a long time that is still in NJ. Maybe that was one of them, not sure.
Just as I remember it! Ok not really, but I think dad and I did go to the house (if its the one I think) when I went.
PS: when is dad gonna get it out of his mind that his kids don't hate him ("still loving their father") comeon dad! i mean really? sorry, but dead wrong on that one!
And the dishes, wish I had been around for that one, it sounds cool!
Thanks for the post. It is fun to see a glimpse into War's childhood, especially since I can drive him down mine anytime. Thanks, I hope you two are enjoying your European "honeymoon".
Dear Chocolate Frogs,
When you are 58 and working hard I will ask you how your honeymoon is doing. You will be waiting for yours just like I'm waiting for mine.
With a little encouragement I could tell you even more "War" stories.
The Pilot
Great post, and great pictures! I love that you included photos of food!
I'll have to ask Harland more about this house...
To a little boyt those places where huge. I just remember how I thought I lived in a mansion. When returning you realize just how cramped the quarters were. It is funny. When you are small things seem so mystical- it is a shame that disapears with age, time and learning.
I have to add a comment about "still loving their father." This is not fatherly paranoia. The day we arrived in Germany in June of 1984, to help everyone adjust to the jet lag, I took the family for a short walk. We were, of course, tired. Little Harland was in the back rank of our small column with a critical if somewhat angry scowl on his handsome face. I turned to look at him to hear his complaint. "Goll dad, why did'ya have to come to Germany," he said with great intensity. I just smiled back know the jet lag was dragging all of us and was sure this would be a great adventure for all of us.
Note to Critchlow, the china you speak about or specifically, the English plate (at least that I know about) was taken under the stairway in Weil im Schoenbuch near Stuttgart, and not from the house in Dornholzhausen where we went for these pictures. The English plate was with us in Winginamen. I am not sure where it is now.
DP
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