In the evening she would lean against the pillar of the porch
As nature dropped its chatter like parishioners at church
The breeze ran cooling fingers soft against her pensive stance
And in the gathering twilight how those memories would dance
‘ Oh Mama, watch our somersault’ she sees two little girls
As cotton dresses flew awry with tousled braids or curls
And then her eyes would rest upon nasturtium, lily, rose
The ivy on the south-west wall; how subtly it glows
As noonday sheds maternal warmth in dusty pink and gold
The farmer walked toward her then, his stride youthful and bold
Unlike the creak of wooden planks as now he sits and rocks
While time re-plays before his eyes the ticking of life’s clocks…
…the weathered pride of heaven’s walls charms intrigued passers-by
Pausing to hear time’s clock rewind in nature’s reverent sigh
Frames of a perfect romance lure the wanderer to its door
Hungry for glimpses of the life that played across its floor
But timber seals its creaking lips, eyes stare back silently
Its staid facade a soundless dirge of sweet melancholy
The ivy claws tenaciously against its wooden breast
Beneath a hundred-season sky its longing is caressed
And we are drawn toward the song of hallowed history
Of tumbled lawn, perennial bloom and musing's mystery
Where in the eve she leaned against the pillar on the porch
We gaze with awe-hushed voices like parishioners at church
© Janet Martin
I loved all the pictures but kept returning to this one...
Thank-you
Mary-Ann for sharing the wonderful photos!
Photo Prompt at
Real Toads
It could work for the previous prompt as well:)