I wrote this for an English project, but liked it so much I decided to post it here. I suppose it is from George Washington's point of view, as I can see no other.

What sweet, crisp Virginian air

fills my senses with rapture,

Carried through the delicate breeze,

brushing softly against my warm cheeks.

The glistening waters of the Potomac,

reflective of every memory, every sentiment –

Every spring afternoon spent on the porch

sipping Madeira, and letting life's troubles fall behind.

The distant harpsichord echoes throughout,

the children frolic about the green hills,

and I feel at once that I have found my place

I know that it is here I shall spend my final days.

My humble heart cannot ever be moved,

Acres of pleasantry my soul shall forever roam

Mount Vernon...

This is, indeed, home.