The Old Homeplace

The Old Homeplace


The graceful old house quiet and still
Sits at the top of the hill
Overlooking serene pastures of green
What a blessed peaceful scene.

The paint is cracked and peeling,
The walls are dingy as is the ceiling,
Window screens need to be replaced
Along with the rotting curtains of lace.

The old post where horses were hitched,
The stately oak where many a wish was wished:
Daffodils and oxalis rebloom every spring,
Reminders of more than a century of dreams.

The birds listen as the house tells
Tales of a kitchen filled with delicious smells,
Rooms filled with children's laughter,
Echoes of sorrow when someone lost a daughter.

Memories revealed passion of young lovers,
Tears and hurt when they argued with each other.
History and changes made as the years passed;
Each family leaving only echoes of the past.

The old house watched as cars replaced horses,
Ladies wore trousers instead of dresses,
Running water instead of a bucket lowered into the well...
So many stories to tell.

The graceful old house now quiet and still
Sits at the top of the hill
Overlooking serene pastures of green
Wondering if it's sheltered it's last dream.

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