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Home Place
Home place
To all those who think about home 6/ 23/1998
Some where an old house stands,
In a field of weeds and shrubs.
Her window were eyes, we looked out of.
Her floors are worn,by family and friends.
Her walls are now faded,
Where pictures of our childhood hang.
Her doors of security have fallen.
The fire is gone out in the fire place.
Mom and Dads long talks have ceased.
Winters cold fills her rooms.
Her roof leaks,Heavens tears rot her floors.
Strangers look upon her,sadly they say,
If this old house could speak, the stories she could tell.
Her backyard is filled with memories,
Of our pets and play filled days.
A little hill lies behind her, as
She watches Mom and Dad at rest.
My secrets she will always keep,
As she stands alone in this field of weeds
And shrubs.
Louvenia Campbell
Copyright ©2004 Louvenia Rose Campbell
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