The Old Bridge to Grandma's House!

The Old Bridge!

The old bridge goes nowhere now.

It once crossed to memories of grandma’s house.

Through the thicket and across the creek,

We would run and jump so eager to seek

Grandma waiting by the old kitchen door;

Calling out to us to come in and enjoy,

Cookies from the oven, milk from the cow,

I wish I could cross the bridge

And be there right now!

The "Old House"...

Old House near Stockbridge

The Old House

I came upon it quite by chance, 

On a cold fall afternoon. 

The gray skies hanging overhead 

Had reduced the day to gloom.

There was a path worn around it, 

Through brush and tall brown grass. 

I pondered for a moment, 

Was this from the present or the past.

The siding gray and cracking, 

Things were hanging at the seams. 

Vines entangled around the roof, 

And wound around the beams.

Did I hear a whisper? 

Perhaps it’s just the wind, 

Though it seems to be some voices 

From the past, but then again.

All my senses tell me

 That it’s the vacant haunting sound 

Of memories, both good and bad, 

This house their burying ground.

As I gaze off the old front step,

I picture lilies by the door, 

With the creaking of a rocking chair 

On the cracked and buckling floor.

Do I hear children’s laughter

Wafting up the hill? 

Alas, it’s just the wind again, 

Coming through the sills.

The hour grows late, I hate to leave, 

For you’re so empty and alone. 

But I must travel to another house, 

The one I call my Home.

A Summer Storm......

Rainbow

A Summer Storm

Wind of summer’s discontent,

Trees and tearing branches bent;

Waking early to driving rain,

Is summer relieving herself of pain?

Dancing rhythm of the wind,

Echoes of thunder’s brash alarm,

Hidden deep beneath my covers,

I feel safe from summer’s harm.

Lightning breaking in disjointed form,

Striking down at earth.

Plant life and creatures holding on,

Clinging to life for all they’re worth.

Gray and somber the summer sky,

Dark, ominous, filled with gloom,

I look about in midnight colors,

Searching for a clue, why summer’s mood?

Perhaps it’s summer’s hidden anger,

Sweeping earth to rid it of its sins.

Perhaps it’s summer giving life,

Her love showed while being stern!

Now with great relief I sigh,

As the summer storm passes by.

I search the light that breaks behind

For any kind of hopeful sign.

Maybe beyond it’s blue and clear,

Hoping a rainbow might appear.