Friday, January 30, 2015
When you finally go back to your old home, you find it wasn't the old home you missed but your childhood. Sam Ewing
"When you finally go back to your old home, you find it wasn't the old home you missed but your childhood." -Sam Ewing
The Old Home Place
By: Mary Walker-Butler
I can see the crooked boards
That line the outer walls.
I can smell the age-old scent
I hear the rooster call.
I like the lingering aroma
Of Grandma’s old cook stove,
As she prepares to bake her pies
Using apples from the grove.
I see her wipe her wrinkled hands
Upon the apron which she wore.
Then she stokes the dying coals,
To start the fire once more.
Grandpa, in his chair he sits,
As he whittles on some wood.
He loves to do creative things.
It makes him feel real good.
I hear the clanging of a bell;
Oh, the cows are coming up.
Grandpa folds his pocketknife
And empties his coffee cup.
He gives his tired, old body
A good, long, needed stretch.
To the pasture he slowly walks.
I know the cows he’ll fetch.
The old home-place still looks good.
It gives my heart a lift.
To see and smell the age-old rooms,
Is such a precious gift.
I even feel the spirits
Of the two dear, precious souls,
That together cared for home & hearth
And reached their well-planned goals.
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
"I saw behind me those who had gone, and before me those who are to come. I looked back and saw my father, and his father, and all our fathers, and in front to see my son, and his son, and the sons upon sons beyond. And their eyes were my eyes." -Richard Llewellyn