With a paintbrush of memories, followed
by a bucket of tears, came with the earning of
hardships, through all sixty plus years. Nothing but the breeze in the summer, wood stove whens it's cold, tree to climb in the
front yard, there's a rose by the road.
Cast iron in the oven, love as deep as the water's well, she's hanging linen on the
clothes line and removing green beans from
their shells. She cooks breakfast and dinner,
everyday at certain times, if you can't catch
her in the attic, look out by the blackberry
vine.
As being a man of many tools, locked up
tight inside his shed, he worked hours around
the clock, to make sure his family was fed.
Then the diamond of his smile, smell of prince
and half and half, with a love as deep as any
ocean, you could never forget that laugh.
With a paintbrush of memories, followed by
a bucket of tears, the house they built, still
standing proud, blood, sweat, and tears. These
two angels the Lord handed to us, their love
could never be sold, a house full of loving
memories, stood her rose by the road. ~VeepLee~
©veman1
V