Sunday, July 25, 2010

Poetry Sunday~ Memories

Home is not where your material things are, it's where memories are made. ~joni

On the walls where children
displayed in a montage grew
Memories tucked in boxes;
nostalgia all askew.

They climbed the stairs as babies
footfalls have all faded.
Silent is the house they grew,
no memories for them jaded.

Barren walls; no longer filled
with all the kids that were
an intricate part of the shape
the small ones not a blur.

The new house sits by waiting
for the rooms to cradle laughter
All grown up they come to visit
for memories that they’re after.

Some will say sweet sentiments
were hung from the bough
No longer there for us to see
A new nest awaits us now.

Grandma is what made the home
a blessed place to be.
Now she fills a place her own
with room for the family!
For Mom


Stormcrow said...

This is sweet.

June said...

These lines spoke to me:
They climbed the stairs as babies
footfalls have all faded.

What a great thought and image...


Excellent, Joni!

joni said...

His mom simply adores all of her grandchildren. She is the complete opposite of my mother, where mine never really had time for her grandkids (takes after her mother.)
Mom told me she would display this in her new home proudly.
(She may have even cried.)
What a great woman!!!