With a paintbrush of memories, followed by
a buckle of tears, came with the earning of
hardships, through all sixty plus years. Nothing
but the breeze in the summer, wood stove when
it's cold, climbing tree in the front yard, there's a
rose by the road.
Cast iron in the oven, love as deep as the
waters well, she's hanging linen on the clothes
line or removing green beans from their shells.
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, she cooks at
certain times, if she's not 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 that 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 memoires, followed
by a bucket of tears, the house they built still
standing proud, after all these years. These
two angels the Lord handed to us, their love
could never be sold, a house full of loving
memoires, stood her rose by the road. ~VeepLee~
©veep
V