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My Father's House This one I wrote after visiting my Dad's old place. I spent many a Christmas there, went fishing in the pond that is located behind the house. My Grandfather built the house and lived there until his death. I had even lived in the house myself on a couple of occasions after I was grown. At the time I wrote this, vandals had drawn graffiti on several places. It hit me hard to see the place in such shape. I saw my Father's house today, I cried at what it had to say. " I'm made with wood and nail. I've weathered rain , wind and hail. Joy and laughter once filled my halls. Times good and bad, I withstood it all. I was built with Love and Pride, I kept safe and warm all who dwelled inside. My halls are empty now, no voices do I hear, No one hears me cry, no one sees my tear. A home and refuge have I been, Those days are gone, never to return again." In my heart I had heard, What the house had said, every tearful word. Years past and days gone by, For precious memories, Sorrowed tears I cried. With tearful eyes I walked away, For I knew not what to say. Fields once green and lush, Now covered with briar and brush. Timbers dry and windows grey,,, I saw my Father's house today. |
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Oh, Rebel, I love this. I'm not good about writing about writing and emotional things...I just feel it. This one touched me deeply...wiping away my tears. You have a wonderful vivid way of painting pictures with words. Thank you for sharing this.
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Thank You Katy and You're Welcome.
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