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If Houses Could Talk: Oh The Stories They Would Tell Vol 2 – Paperback

Memories of an old house
I’m old, abandoned and falling down. My once steady piers are sinking into the ground.
The creaks in my frame are growing louder each day. I know my walls will soon give way.
In my loneliness I often reminisce. About my family whom I truly miss.
They built me with their own hands and gave me life.
I was their haven and home through happiness and strife.
I can still hear the little girls that live within my walls. Running, laughing and playing with their dolls.
Their parents visiting in my kitchen, without a care. With the smell of brewing coffee filling the air.
Talking about their hopes and their dreams. Only a short time ago it seems.
Yet many years have gone by. Some of the family left and some of them died.
I cherish my memories of long ago because deep down in my frame, I know.
That even though I am made of nails and wood, my life has been truly good.      

Lela Suttee

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