The Old House

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One day I’ll become an old house; my once bright paint will fade from time and splinter from seasons of sun and rain. Years of rebuilding will change me and I will no longer look the same. My foundation will need support from the stress of years past.

I hope to be a good old house. I hope others will find me inviting, I hope to see children play and hope to provide shelter. Under my roof I will kindle love for my wife and children. I will set out to remain constant even though the landscape may change. I will keep my lights on so that my loved ones can find their way home. I will weather whatever comes so that my love can rest her head.

I see that old house; seemingly alone, but not empty.

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2 Comments»

  Jen Thompson wrote @

so beautiful & poetic. & meaningful to me

  tara wrote @

getting older is beautiful when seen in this light…


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