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Our House
Our House
1/29/98
This old house was once filled with kids at play.
Friends and cousins spent the night.
Smell of popcorn filled the air.
The bathroom door ,open and shut.
Our phone was always ringing.
When the table was set , we laughed ,talked and ate.
The girls would do the dishes, quarrel at ever plate.
Laundry baskets full, ready for another wash.
Pizza boxes filled the trash.
Now the kids are grown , Mom and Dad's alone.
Grand kids come to visit they'd like to stay.
The many shoe sizes are gone ,that set around the door.
The dishwasher does the dishes ,never says a word.
This old house is lonesome, memories she holds.
Here ,is where our kids grew up .
Here, is where we must grow old.
Louvenia Campbell
Copyright ©2004 Louvenia Rose Campbell
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