Country Colored Memories
Every tree is its own story
Standing for decades void of glory
Swaying gently in the breeze
Bracing for winters freeze
Year after year, seasons change
Limbs and branches rearranged
Only when it’s cut for timber
counting rings to remember
How tall and luxuriant it used to stand
Languishing seasons with no helping hands
Necessary for the air we breath
Oxygen, storing carbon released through leaves
Provides food and shelter; beauty brings
Life would be difficult if trees were not a thing.
In the corner of the room stood an old used up broom It used to sweep my kitchen floor I don’t much use it any more funny how long a broom can last no brain or heart but sweeps so...
In the Well House at grandads place In the summer you would see my happy face There was a water pump in the middle, on the side was a spout I would push the handle up and down until cold...
No more children-filled, fun summersMy Music has now changed drummers Those summer faces now gone for goodsweet little faces gobbling favorite foods Teaching small bodies to swimNow they quickly dive in on a whim They don’t need you anymoreBecause they...