Friday, February 12, 2016

Lonely Sentinel

For a hundred years and more
She stood and kept watch
Oh, the stories she could tell
Beginning with herself

 A shell of her former splendor
When in her prime she wore
A crown of leafy glory
Shades of green and gold

Her placement marked a lane
Entrance to some farmer's dream
One hundred-sixty acres, stock
Children and his own true love

No longer can the passer by tell
Once a farmstead stood proud
Just a lonely sentinel's shell
To remember the days of old

No comments:

Post a Comment