Where I was born
Early home
The old house was home to me
The old house was home to me
Seventeen years there I lived
First breath I took, fresh farm air
Reading lights there we had none
No one was afraid of dark,
except for one little boy
My trip at night outhouse bound
Little sis was my escort
We had hope for the flashlight
Four room house, sis needed one
The front porch became my room
For sister I didn't mind
Corn cob stove, later fuel oil
Kerosene lamps, then came juice
Outhouse filled up, bathroom came
Raccoons and snakes made their home
Elm trees growing in my porch
And then it was razed and burned
A hundred plus, house had lived
Perfect place a boy to grow
Little sister, Mom and Dad
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Poem and Photo Copyright
© 2014 Jimmiehov
All Rights Reserved
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Today I am linked with Helen at the Real Toads, All About Abodes
Poem and Photo Copyright
© 2014 Jimmiehov
All Rights Reserved
- - - - - -
Today I am linked with Helen at the Real Toads, All About Abodes
A rundown of the old home place, here
Labels: Home, Jim's Life, Personal-Challenge-2014, Poem, Real Toads, Syllabic Form
posted by Jim @ 4/08/2014 07:15:00 PM
8 comments
8 Comments:
"For sister I didn't mind"… very sweet. And it would be hard to see a beloved place full of wonderful memories deteriorate like that.
Sounds like a wonderful place to grow up
love this old world charm full of sweet memories...
It's such a shame the old farm house is gone. The old houses had such character!
Fresh farm air is one of the best gifts from nature, Dr Jim :)
"Perfect place a boy to grow" .. perfect poem for my challenge!
hope for your flashlight. love this snap of you and your sister. i can see my kids in your words. (though i supposed they'd be grateful to not have to find the outhouse in the dark.)
That is a beautiful house! : )
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