Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: REFLECTION (10/10/19)
- TITLE: This Place
By vincent lyons
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Stirred a fountain of heartfelt tears;
Of the old house now thereâ€™s only a trace,
Near consumed by the passing years.
He built this house with his own bare hands
And each stone was lovingly laid;
The evidence of his handiwork stands
Even though the memories fade.
He tilled these fields with blood, sweat and tears
In a struggle to feed and fend
Traversed every inch over eighty years,
Stuck it out to the bitter end.
His wife and children whom he loved unfeigned
Were first in his heart and mind
Though times were tough their love sustainedâ€”
What a legacy left behind!
Now a kind of sadness fills the air
On reflection of these things;
Though history lingers everywhere
Thereâ€™s an emptiness it brings.
For this place remembers them no more
And a stranger wouldnâ€™t know
The vibrant lives that thrived before
Not so very long ago.
As for man, his days are like grass;
As a flower of the field, so he flourishes.
For the wind passes over it, and it is gone,
And its place remembers it no more.
Psalm 103:16, NKJV.
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