The House In The Woods Poem by Sarah Persson

How old she was, I didn't exactly know,
Her legs didn't work quite so well anymore,
She walked up the steps clutching onto the rail,
And once again smiled when she reached the front door.

She unlocked the door, all the memories flooded back,
She let out a laugh at the photo on the floor,
A tear tickled down her wrinkled, soft cheek,
But the memories made her happy, once more.

That old run down house gave her many childhood joys,
The place she grew up in and left as a bride,
Her parents lived on there throughout all their years,
But within the last two, they'd both sadly died.

So standing here now, at a good age herself,
She gazed through the window once more,
Where once she had stood gazing out at her father,
Now just woodland in view, oh so different than before.

A "For Sale" sign now pitched at the end of the drive,
She wouldn't be worth much to most
But to this now, old lady, with memories of gold,
It's a treasure, like the scent of warm toast.

She says her goodbyes, whereas once just farewells,
Old sounds come to life in her head,
The laughter, the tears, the endearing love filled years,
Stored away, tucked in tight, safe in bed.