The Front Porch
Sitting on front porch steps, Squeaking swings, gray stained decks.
Talking, sharing of day's past, Turning sighs into a laugh.
Memories the prominent show, Sharing stories of long ago.
Rockers thumping on worn boards, Keeping tune with laughing chords.
When one arrives they all join in, Greet them as a long gone friend.
Honeysuckle mingles in the breeze, Lingers awhile before it flees.
Evening mist comes rolling in, Voices subside and yawns begin.
Problems released, joys expressed, Bring sleepiness, a good night's rest.
Where are days when at the end, Listening - becomes a friend. -- Ina G. Tressler
Back to the Toy Box
Yummy's Attic since 2001