It seemed daunting, six years old looking up that makeshift ladder
to the treehouse centered 'tween three aged trees looming high above
I figured and refigured, wanting to go up & not, getting madder
I'd rather not and say I did, go fishing like I love.
I made it! I did. Enjoyn' the scenery from my lofty seat
The steps nailed to the tree were wiggly and creaking, one huge nail a piece
The bottom was in freshly baled hay and Trigger was across the way; how neat!
All the neighbor kids were here visiting us, playing 'n intending not to cease
The boys, rough and rowdy, flying a combative kite with a mind all its own
Laughed and yelled and directed the pilot, thinking they knew more
The girls, gaily playing contently with the wagon, smiling up at me...'lone
called my name and prompted me down, it was my turn to pull, "Don't be a bore!"
O'er the years that fort of a treehouse gave me misery and joy
the new brother, unruly and rogue, messed with me and with my heart
Tossed me around like an old rag doll, looked upon me as if I were a lousy toy
'Twas nothing I did wrong, once an adoring sister,....no, nothing on my part.
Girls came and went, tea parties in the breeze, slumber parties and shooting stars
thought I went up there on an elevator once, dodging the run-away bull
Seasons came and seasons passed, the tree house aged with scars
Remains to outlive a family since moved on or passed, all quiet and dull.
I returned to that treehouse more than once in memories bitter & sweet
Children laughing, crying, hurting.....such is a part of family life
But, the best part that warms me, was the love I had for all, a treat
With God, I could forgive, get on, and still look back fondly; forget the strife.
Gina Ann Day ©2008
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