The New Family Home
Now that midsummer approaches
and the years begin to betray,
the foundations I once knew
are crumbling, my love ones
are moving majestically away.
Our new home a portrait of joy,
each abode neatly placed in aisles,
a monument of remembrance
with the sweet scent of the rose,
epithet etched for those left behind.
No strangers loiter in this place
where winter’s blanket covers all,
and summer sun absolute
brings no peace for the
silent populous on board.
Tears fall in regular intervals,
most not wanting to let go,
moisture given to a memory
Yet! A welcome there awaits,
“Oh! How ignorant the living are.”
Oh! Yes the years will disenchant,
each sorrowful event captured,
season after season shedding ones
youth, giving one’s matured mind
visions of logical progression.
One final day, I will play the
ultimate game, winner or loser
depending whom the enemy,
Yet! No matter wherever I gaze
my mind will heed the ending.
My memories take me back, many times
I have travelled Wharfedale’s ways,
but on this very special day no matter
where I lay, my final journey will be.
“Down Addingham’s country lane.”
© Harry J Horsman 1992
Copyright © Harry Horsman | Year Posted 2012
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