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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 – Advanced)
Topic: Twilight Years of Life (07/02/09)

TITLE: This Old House
By Arlene Showalter
07/09/09


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I love you, Son.
Stop fussing with my shirt
And try to see
Those words in my eyes,
Because
I canít say them any more.

Donít feel bad
When patience runs thin,
Wrestling
My uncooperative feet
Into those orthopedic
Shoes.
I see frustrated
Impatience in your eyes.
I feel the hurry
In your hands.
You saw the same in mine
60 years ago
When I wrestled
To dress you.


Life changed
In a stroke.
But itís not all bad.
Find the humor of it.
This old house just ainít
What it used to be.
While Iíve still got
A smattering of
Snow on my roof,
The rest all migrated south
To nose and ears.

My front porch has
Sprung a leak
While the back
Stays clogged most times.
But thatís ok.
Itís all temporary.

Donít feel bad
When I decline
To join you for meals.
Food keeps
Body and soul together.
My soul longs
To fly away.

I donít care about
Running places anymore.
Iím not shutting down
Iím packing for Home.

I rushed so much in life
Trying to be the provider
I thought I was
Supposed to be.
I missed the
Important stuff,
While working overtime
To buy needless stuff.

Though Iím ready to
Leave this worn old house,
Fire burns bright in my oven.

It burns bright to join
Your mama.
And your baby sister.
But most of all
It burns bright
To see Jesus.

I love you, Son.


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This article has been read 508 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Karlene Jacobsen 07/09/09
Well said. I was thinking of a song "This Old House" sung by George Younce several years ago. (He was base singer with the Cathedrals).
Margaret Kearley 07/10/09
I like this very much, particularly the lines: -

Iím not shutting down
Iím packing for Home.

It reminds me, we are just pilgrims and travellers! Thankyou
c clemons07/14/09
Very nice.
Joy Faire Stewart07/16/09
What a touching poem! Congraulations on your placing.