Friday, November 11, 2011

Small Spaces

Barefoot Acres

I am a collector of small things

Babies when I had them ~ I stopped at three
Critters a plenty inside and out
A few too many ‘saves’ for me to count

A house papered with small love notes
“And they lived happily ever after!”, among others I quote
Kentucky’s farmland in winter ~ my forever Home
Embroidered memories remind me I am not alone

Guitars acoustic, a few that are amped
A harmonica, a fiddle, a base drum that’s been tamped
Piano in the foyer, borrowed banjo against the wall
My children’s voices once so small

An American flag, in the corner it waits
Some old 45’s ~ a few 78’s
Albums that ‘crack’ and ‘pop’ when they’re played
In all the right places, no desire to trade

In my kitchen, an army of PEZ takes a stand
Two hundred and thirty give or take, ‘cause I can
An old plate, a glass bottle, a small candle ~ all red
Quilted hearts for a child or a very small bed

Happy Time! My mother’s little red barn
The farmer’s wife and her plastic children came to no real harm
A straw cowboy hat with a big red star
Grandpa’s clock on the mantel still runs like a charm

A boy in a snowsuit made out of clay
Lavender tied with a ribbon that’s frayed
Four leaf clovers ~ not so hard to find
You make your own luck is the lesson I mind

Gum wrappers made into a chain
My uncle’s glass bird against the pane
A tiny wren’s nest with five speckled eggs
The mother long gone, no mouths left to beg

So many things one collects in a Life
A hole to fill ~ maybe, though in my heart it feels right
Love in small spaces makes a place ~ to just Be
Though, it’s in the journey we share that will set us free.

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