Emelia L. Bave
The Old Buckley House (Built In 1879) - Poem by Emelia L. Bave
I love you old house, I can't say just why ...
So snug on the knoll, outlined 'gainst the sky.
The charm of you shape, the old lovely trees,
And even the bent fence somehow doth please.
The family who built you way back in the past ...
I'm sure are just filled with memories that last.
The running of feet on sturdy stairway,
The banging of screens as they run out to play.
The pleasant large kitchen, with flies buzzing 'round,
And all thro' the orchard, the fruit on the ground.
The lilacs in back that scented the air,
The rich dark earth gardened with care.
And, looking thro' windows stained with different hues
One saw the waters with various blues ...
Sometimes they were calm, and restful to see,
But sometimes were angry, and dashed on the lee.
Those glorious sunsets of red, yellow and gold,
Some wispy and fragile, some solid and bold.
Could I just paint the picture ... plus Islands afar ...
The soft glowing color, and in it a star!
Oh, beauties around us ... how it helps us to live ...
What pleasure, what comfort waht succor it gives!
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