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.