The Road to Granny's House
I use to run down this old dirt road,
When visiting my Granny's farm.
Barefoot and carefree
Away from the city and all alarms.
The cars and factory whistles,
And clatter of the trains.
When out here in the country,
It's only peace and softness of the rain.
It takes a little getting use to,
Far different from the city.
I can watch the sunrise from my window,
As Granny feeds the chickens.
She lived in just a run down house,
But her life really wasn't bad..
We'd sleep under mosquito nets in summer,
And on a big soft feather bed.
Her dress was really long back then,
Not like it is today,
They didn't dare show their legs,
For what the neighbors would say.
There was nothing then convenient.
But everything was clean.
In the mornings we had home made biscuits,
With butter and jelly in between.
Those times back then weren't very easy,
And some I wouldn't want to live all over,
But then I think about the days,
Granny and I walked through deep red clover.
There is just some things you can't give up,
It's in your blood I think,
She wouldn't have exchanged her farm life,
For all the silk, and pearls and mink.
So hang onto the things you love,
That makes your life seem whole,
For some day you'll look back,
On memories of gold.
Life can be really happy,
Or can be really sad.
It all depends on how you look on life.
The good side or the bad.
© By Faye Reyenga (firstname.lastname@example.org)