The house was old, but solid,
the rugs were thin and worn.
Bright curtains covered the windows,
in the house were I was born.
In the wardrobe hung my clothes ,
that Momma made for me.
My report card was on the shelf,
it had all A's and just one B.
Hair curlers were on the dresser,
made with paper wrapped around tin.
Potatoes stored in the cellar,
and flour was kept in the flour bin.
We played games like Hide and Seek,
played hopscotch and skipped a rope.
Took a bath in the old wash tub,
and used plenty of Ivory soap.
We had a wringer washing machine,
and a rinse tub that sat near by.
There was a clothesline in the back yard,
where we hung the clothes to dry.
There was cornbread in the oven,
soup beans simmered most the day.
There was fresh baked pies cooling,
made from berries we put away.
There was an old piano,
I took lessons and learned to play.
We had this old timey radio,
country music brightened up the day.
Bright green ivy covered the front porch,
peonies lined the brick walk in the yard.
There was a big apple tree out back,
and black cherries with seeds so hard.
There was always lots of animals,
there was a cat and a big bull dog.
We had turkeys, chickens, and guineas,
a cow, some rabbits, and a hog.
Momma made the quilt by hand,
that she covered me with each night.
She always listened to my prayers,
before turning out the light.
The old house is still standing,
but Momma has gone to rest.
As I think about my childhood,
I know now that I was blessed.
I wonder if the folks who live there,
see the beauty in that old home.
And if they are making memories,
that'll be cherished when they're gone.
Copyright © 2001, Jo Ann Lovelace. All Rights Reserved.
