This house stood
with its brothers side by side
an open window – letting a draft of air through
This empty shell
No one looked
at the empty shell
till one day – a little yellow car pulled up
and Dad arrived
He looked through
past the desolate halls
and saw something – beyond the bare brick walls
A shell ? No more
We painted walls
Cleaned up the space
Opened the windows – and brought air to the place
Mum Dad Sis and me – moved in at pace
Over time we added new things
a bed, bath, TV
In corner of garden – we planted a tree
which became home for the birds and occasional bee
And as time moved on – things they did change
Little sis moved south – at first that was strange
but now she returns with family in tow
handy when the big square of grass needs a mow
People may leave – but back they do roam
proving its not bricks that make house a home
From Easter in Spring and Christmas and New Year
its family all that makes life so dear.
Very lovely poem! I can hear the birds singing and the children enjoying your home:) blessings, denise
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Cheers Denise – that’ll be the nephews then – driving Grandad silly!
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Life is about family. So is home. Great write.
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Glad you enjoyed the read , L.A
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