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