Martha Poem by Franklin Spriggs

An old man setting on a porch one day,
Just rocking to and fro,
Excuse me son, can you help me please,
Where did my Martha go?

As best I recall in this old mind,
We use to laugh and play,
I'd hold her tight, and soothe her face,
Where is Martha at today?

I am sorry sir, I do not know,
Where Martha is today,
Is she in the house dear one,
Or walking along the way?

I've looked in the house, I've searched in the way,
I don't get around much anymore,
Her favorite spot I did not check,
Just right behind the door.

I helped him get to his feet,
That he might check once more,
And sure enough, there she was,
Curled up behind the door.

Author
Franklin Spriggs
Feb 20,2008