My Grandparent’s Farm

My Grandpa’s farm

Is the perfect setting

A pale purple house rests on a hill

Almost faded to the point of gray

I see it from the old gravel road

On top of the rolling hills

Hidden by trees that keep mulberries in their branches

I see it through the kicked up chalky dust

That coats the car with a layer of thin powder

When the sun comes up

In front of the old purple house

The dew catches on the garden

The sun shines over the hill

And makes all the land sparkle

and the air mist

From the house on a hill

I can see the fields

The cows and the pond

The timber hides the horizon

From every direction

The lower lot

Filled with fresh clay

and a big blue barn

Is overflowing with life.

Cows, cats, and Jadie

The old lab who follows me dutifully

Wherever I go

In the house

There is always a good meal

A glass window

That makes rainbows on the carpet as the sun streams through it

There is a big calico cat

Who sits on my lap as Grandma teaches me to embroider

Or as I watch an old movie on a faded print couch in the den

There are many little oil lamps

Jewelry boxes

and warm quilts

I will never let my grandparent’s farm

Leave my heart

Or my head

Even when It’s long gone