The Old Gray House

a writing by Linda Bates Terrell

That leaning tired old tree
full of termites
lingers still in the yard
tilted towards the old gray house.

Easter lillies have withered
turned a gentle brown.
That gate it still swings
but not as tall as I recall.

Boards of the porch
Each pulled away
baring bold splinters.

Old Gray House,
you lean closer in the breeze
toward the maple old tree.

Old rope swing, swinging
sad, now long gone,
ropes grown within tree
Just a memory now
for only I to see.

Windows broken,
torn wind battered curtains
still hang, neither strong

Swaying in the breeze
back door banging with wind
Am I now, your only friend.

Roof, some is worn off
baring boards sparcely,

Old Gray House,
You seem so sad
I wonder if to see me again
You too feel so glad.

Though I left you so long ago.
Alone, like a sad dog out in the rain.

Back then you were once
all we had, Back when
we both were so glad.

Old Gray House
once you gleamed
of bright painted white gutters
Glowing brightly in the sun.

I wonder if sometimes
it must have been watching all us kids
joyfully, beneath its gutters,
As windows like eyes, now you sheds a tear.

Oh as I recall,
We jumped among the puddles
with smiles upon our faces.

We did not know we were poor,
as fun spent together, it had no price.

We smiled among our selves
of our few riches, though to have you
Old Gray House, we were wealthier than all

A family's love was within us all,
Beaming out of each your walls
a feeling, just as deep as within
a lovers heart,
I pray, we will never part.


Linda Bates Terrell
March 21, 2010 5:12 P.M.

rewritten February 19, 2012 10:16

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