AN OLD COUPLE'S HOUSE

An Old Couple’s House

Have you ever been in an old couple’s house?

Tis really a grand sight to see

It’s an eclectic assortment of Ma and Pa Kettle

With a little bit of Fibber McGee.

There are trashcans and Kleenex beside every chair

Newspapers on tables stacked high

There are piles of books waiting for a” just in case” moment

And lamps bright for tired old eyes

There are antiques and junque everywhere that you look

And most are covered with dust

And visitors have no comprehension

Why we keep them, but we know we must

Each one a reminder of days now gone by

All the things we have loved through the years

No meaning for others, but to us they are gold

In our memories they bring happy tears

The dishes are old, with faded vintage design

The cups and the saucers don’t match

The bowls of all sizes lopsidedly sit

Now they’re part of just one mingled batch.

The bed with mixed patterns of pillows and sheets

Sits between bedside tables that hold

All the pills that are needed for pain and for sleep

There’s a quilt at the foot for night cold

The walls are covered with pictures so precious

Each one tells a story of “when”

When we lived in “that house”, when we had “that cat”

When young daughter had the missing tooth grin;

There are baby pictures there, now of three generations

And wedding pictures, handsome groom, pretty bride

All reminders of the many miles of this journey

That we’ve travelled and still side by side.

The curtains aren’t new and the walls need some paint

And the carpet is definitely faded

The windows won’t open and the plumbing can leak

And the furniture is very outdated

The recliners and rockers show signs of their age

But comfort only matters by now

They know our bodies and we know their soft places

So to these time adjustments we bow

There’s no use denying old age coming on

We’re comfortable in this wrinkled skin

Our faces show laugh lines and worry crinkles too

What we’ve seen and the places we’ve been

So to us this is home, we’re not ready to leave

Though we know we can’t live forever

For as long as we last, we’ll enjoy the past

And the future, til life’s ties we sever.

COMMUNION ON THE MOON

Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow. (Melody Beattie) Americans need a day dedicated to gratitude. I have noticed that in the lineup of most of our holidays that Thanksgiving is perhaps the one least given over to secularism - the one we still observe in a traditional fashion. We need it to keep our focus clear and to teach our children what it means to be thankful for family, friendship and faith. We need a time to gather around the table with extended family and enjoy turkey and dressing and gravy, two kinds of potatoes, cranberries, hot rolls, green bean casserole, pumpkin pie and whipped cream. We need it, not for the calories, but to create an awareness that there are those who don’t have those blessings, because in the hectic pace of our everyday lives we tend to forget those in need. Family and food are important, but above all else, Americans need a rededication to our faith. Faith brought the pilgrims to the ne...

SIGHTS AND SOUNDS OF AUTUMN

SIGHTS AND SOUNDS OF AUTUMN By Joan Rowden Hart, Oct. 17, 2016 The hickory tree stands tall in the yard A harbinger of the season to come Dispensing nuts as the wind picks up A change in the weather so abrupt These are the sights and sounds of autumn The first tryma just rolled down the length of the roof But they’ve been littering the roads for days They crack under the wheels Causing car brakes to squeal The sights and the sounds of autumn. A chill in the breeze says it won’t be long now Old winter will be here too soon But there are still pleasant days For the sun’s warming rays And the sights and the sounds of autumn Leaves drifting on the wings of the wind as they play A kaleidoscope of nature’s own making Rusty mauve, glittery gold Red and orange bright and bold These are the sights and sounds of autumn. Smoke rising in the air from bonfires here and there Hotdogs impaled on sticks, embers glowing Crisp and crunch as you bite In the evenings waning light More sights and sou...

Straight From The Hart

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