Family Treasures

I was one of the lucky ones to experience living in a multi-generational home.  My parents, grandparents, Uncle (while is name was Larry, he was always known as “Uncle”) and my two older sisters all lived in a large New Hampshire home. Built in 1875, it boasted an attached barn and lots of nooks and crannies to play and hide in. These hiding spots also became home to droves of trunks, boxes, and “stuff” accumulated during the last 45 years.  One of the treasures my father recently uncovered was a poem in my grandfather’s hand writing.  I remember him sitting in his favorite chair by the window scribbling on paper, but never saw what he worked on.  For Christmas this year, I plan to frame this treasure for my father, along with the handwritten version. 

Seasonal

The trees do shake and tremble

As the winds in gusts assemble

And many leaves fall to the ground

Without making any sound

 

The birds are flitting here and there

To find a place that’s warm and fair

Now we know that fall is here

And winter soon will reappear

 

The snow heaps up in varied piles

Bringing skiers many smiles

We shovel here, we shovel there

But still there’s more than we can bear

 

And as we look ahead to spring

We hope that it will pleasures bring

For when the winters snows are gone

We know that spring will come along

 

And now that spring has come and gone

We know that summers soon along

We plant the garden, mow the lawn

Pick the beans, eat the corn

 

And now that we are back to fall

We hear the birds and others call

For winters surely on the way

And fall is gone, a year away

 

Every season has its way

No matter what we do or say

So we learn to like them one and all

Winter, spring, then summer and fall.

   

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