A Well Built House,

(Image from Google)

Poetry Jam a great place for writers that blog.

"Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to." 

 ~John Ed Pearce

It has been well over 30 years since I set foot in that old house. 

It was torn down years ago, but in my memories it still stands proud.

I step inside it's walls and walk up the creeky stairs to my old room.

I wander through the contents and look out the window at the view.
I can't go back and hear the voices that echo through the halls,
but I can carry the memories with me and never let them fall.

The Sheltering

Magpie Tales # 29

His

eyes were

the windows

that showed us

his vision of the world

his arms were the walls that

cushioned us from the noises of life

his strength was the shelter that

protected us from the storms

we faced his soul's integrity was the

nails that held together our family

his heart was the door that helped

us get where we needed to go his

love was the foundation that made

our house a home.

Dedicated to my father.

Parkes Van Horn

My dad was more than a father he was our mother as well. His memory and example are what have formed the person that I am today.  I miss him more than any poem could ever express.