Wednesday, April 09, 2014

April's Love

April's Love 
It was the best of months, the worst of  months
married young, so good it's hard to describe
tender and sweet, closely entwined, young love

Young marriages may not last, seasons change
bitterness and sorrow, brokenhearted 
storms throw down their nests, the flowers die

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Photos and Poem Copyright
© 2014
All Rights Reserved

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Today I am  linked to the Real Toads, Words Count with Momma Zen
 (My word count is forty-six)
"In his masterpiece The Waste Land, poet T.S. Eliot 
describes April as the cruelest month," Mom Zee asked,
"Give me the best and worst of April, then render a verdict . . . in 66 words or less."

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Tuesday, April 08, 2014

Where I was born

Early home

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
All Rights Reserved

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Today I am  linked with Helen at the Real Toads, All About Abodes
A rundown of the old home place, here

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