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These old things....
These old porch steps hold memories,
this old house tells story's,
and these old shoes have traveld far.
these porch steps
so brown an old,
withering underfoot,
Child apon child has treaded here,
their stories to be told to the next generation.
This old house...
the color of a pale yellow rose,
has much to tell,
for it whispers amany secrets
across the old oak floors
and high to the rafters
far and wide,
the old house croaks and groans
but none can fathom
the endurance of this old pale house.
Shoes go on feet,
feet make a path,
and that path tells you who you are,
for these old shoes have traveld far,
scared and withered,
they still stand, mighty and majestic,
these old shoes......
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