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Thursday, 31 July 2008

My House

By Ellen Younkins

My house that I love is getting old like me.
The Ash tree in front stoops over the walk
and the cracks in the sidewalk seem to talk.

The Sand Cherry tree stands as tall as it can
from its humble beginning when it was new.
It's thriving and growing at least a foot or two.

The Birches are slight, they never did well
but they hang on for dear life and try to survive.
I hope each season they will still be alive.

My house that I love is getting old like me
but the birds come back to build their nest
and their fledglings fly off in a mighty quest.

[EDITORIAL NOTE: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. Instructions are here.]

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 02:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post


Houses do have personalities of their own and earn great affection. Bravo Ellen!

My house is growing older, too, just like I am. I sort of want to fly away (before it falls down)....LOL

Great poem, Ellen..

I could have written the same thing about my old house and my old tree,too. There was quite a bit of affection in those words you wrote. I enjoyed reading it.

Aside to Judy:
I thought the bees were holding your house up.....

I love your poem Ellen.

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