THE TRAIL There’s a woods behind my house With a trail’s faint remains That has almost disappeared From overgrowth and rains It winds around the hillocks From the valley to the lake And twists all through the mountains Like a long and writhing snake ‘Twas made by Indian ponies And many moccasined feet Long before [...]
Posts Tagged ‘house’
The Woods Behind my House
Posted in Inspirational, Memories, Native American, Poetry, Rhyming, tagged Chieftain, house, Indian culture, Indian ponies, maidens, moccasined, mountains, trail, valley, weaving baskets, woods on Tuesday,July 21, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
What drama took place inside?
Posted in Family, love, Memories, My Thoughts, Poetry, Rhyming, tagged drama, game, generations, heartaches, hide, house, joys, laughter, secrets, tears on Thursday,April 23, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
WHAT SECRETS DO YOU HIDE Old house, what secrets do you hide From dramas that took place inside? There were births, deaths, and marriages Within your structured frame, Played out as fate would have it In life’s exciting game. Your walls shared joys and heartaches As befits a house of years. You [...]
My quest, today
Posted in Memories, Poetry, Rhyming, tagged aura, house, lace curtains, quest on Tuesday,March 31, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
THIS IS THE PLACE I’m sure in mind this is the place Behind old curtains made of lace, Where as a child I used to play. I wonder if there’s still a trace. I had to make this quest today, Before they tear all trace away. The wrecking crew may well be [...]
My ‘promise’ ring
Posted in love, Memories, Poetry, Rhyming, tagged hair, house, mementoes, photos, ring, Rose, tokens on Tuesday,February 24, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
TOKENS FROM THE PAST Inside a box that’s tied with string, My promise ring. Two locks of hair, One dark, one fair. The blueprint for the house we chose. A faded rose. Love beads of blue. Our photos, too. Old letters stained with tears I cried, When our love died. Mementoes, these. [...]
My old family tree
Posted in Family, Memories, Poetry, tagged family tree, ghosts, house, quiet, shell on Thursday,February 19, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
This form of poetry is called a ‘Neville’ MY HOMESTEAD The house that used to shelter me, is now an empty shell, with secrets it could tell, and friendly ghosts just floating free. I see them everywhere when I am quiet there . . . they’re part of my old family tree. [...]