Poem - This Old House - Jane Marie Collette
This old house A poem, by me Jane Marie Collette This old house is made of sky and earth and stone. The great trees have grown up around her, year by year. The squirrels and mice live on and within her. She breaths in and out as time goes by and Happy souls live within, coming and going year after year. The seasons come and go. In the fall the trees turn gold against the blue sky over her. Time weaves in and out of moment upon moment. The North wind comes howling, and the leaves wirl around and around And the rain comes down and hits against her doors and her windows. The snow piles up on her roof and she weeps from time to time. Her old bones creak a little more, but still, she goes on and on, she is strong. In the spring the tulips bloom and resurrect the memory of the lady Who planted them 50 years ago. The lilac trees grace with elegance her old frame. The birds return and build their nests again, As they have done for
