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Poem

Even in old age I still find,
I have more questions than answers.
Like when I would not even be considered for Father of the year,
How have our three children flourished,
And been witnessed to be happy on occasions?

Could it be that Base Camp has kept it's original address,
And the welcome mat can be seen from space. 
A place where Dinosaurs still roam.

The structure may creek and groan,
Under the weight of all the years, 
But the integrity of the main beams is still solid, 
And there are still embers in the home fire.

The original custodians are still in residence, 
And in no hurry to move on,
The grounds may be a bit unruly,
But there is a bigger supply of fruit than before,
And sitting outside no longer necessitates putting up sunshades,
Wood for the fire is supplied on site.

New varieties of Birds can be seen and heard chirping,
There is no shortage of worms to help turn the soil,
Flowers and butterflies flourish among the weeds,
And buzzing of the bees drowns out the noise of the flies.

The garage may be a mess,
But there are tools enough for the job, 
And some spares in case the children, or friends forget to bring back,
What they borrowed.

This home base may not feature in Home and Garden magazines,
But it has stood the test of time, 
Is still the starting point for many an adventure.

With new offspring in the family,
And new offshoots in the garden,
I may have one less Question,
Requiring an answer.

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