On Longing for Home

In my English 350R: class about the Romantics, we were asked to write a poem in the Romantic Spirit using direct quotes from two of Samuel Coleridge's sonnets and Joseph Smith's King Follet's discourse. This is my first serious attempt ever at poetry, so I just turned one of my essays into a poem. Let me know what you think.

On Longing for Home

“What kind of being is God? Does any man or woman know? Have any of you seen him, heard him, or communed with him?” –Joseph Smith, Jr.

Stanley folded the blue copy of his

Book of Mormon until the corners touched.

As our fingers tapped a steady rhythm,

His stormy eyes drifted down to the left.

“Elders,” said he, “How do I know it’s real?”

My companion suggested we pray.

“Why should I struggle to believe?” I thought.

I, like our investigator, did not

Know how to know. We prayed, and then we left.

Days later I held the phone in my hands;

It rang and rang and rang and rang and rang.

With three months left, I wanted to go home.

None answered the phone at the mission home.

O Lord! To thee I bend: “Where is my home?”