Old House

It had been an old-house,
For many a year.
And each grain of wood,
Was to me...so dear.

Tall gables reached up,
Into the air.
And the two compartments,
Made them a pair.

It had been a place,
Where many a brood.
Had grown up tall,
And found their food.

It was built from pinion,
That was good and strong.
As from family to family,
It was moved along.

I look to this house,
And its build...I adorn.
Even if its siding,
is weather-worn.


E.P. 1908 - 1989