The Last House On The South Side

Written by: Trudy Diane Rider

Heading east on 16th Street
where the road becomes a “T”
it’s the last house on the south side
that means so much to me.

Pine shrubbery up to the windows
giant cottonwoods stand guard
an arch above the driveway
an eighteen acre yard

Wrapped in warm wood siding
inviting young and old
“Come! Sit upon this porch of mine!
Such stories yet to be told!”

The shingled roof, though worn with time
still boasts unyielding strength
a red brick chimney standing tall,
giant windows down the length

I helped to plant those giant trees
when we were both still small
and pulled the weeds from every inch
of eighteen acres....ALL!

I’ve climbed out of those windows
some punishment to escape
I’ve run across that rooftop
donned in a long red cape

I’ve crawled under that porch
upon my hands and knees
to rescue baby kittens
or little brothers for to tease

I’ve chased the dogs around the house
upon my faithful steed
who was just a Shetland pony
but always up to the deed!

Within those walls, and out it seems,
many lessons there were learned
and in the process of it all
the memories, on my heart, were burned

Though things change, as all things do,
there, most things stay the same
like love and laughter flowing ‘round
and calling out my name

Now, when I’m growing weary
and need a place to hide
I jump into my trusty car
and go out for a ride

‘cause

Heading east on 16th Street
where the road becomes a “T”
that last house on the south side
means so much to me!

Trudy Diane Rider	
10-2003