Old Man Brxb

A place for my poems

Musings of an Old House

Musings of an Old House
By J. Carl Brooksby
June 2009 (After painting “for the last time”)

My owners have bought me a new coat.
It’s yellow with trimmings of white.
Though the color’s the same as my old one,
To me, that is really all right.

I’m “The Yellow House on the Corner”
Of that name , I’ve always been proud.
After using this name for forty eight years,
No name change should now be allowed.

They say it’s the last coat they’ll give me,
For they are both wrinkled and gray.
They always have treated me kindly,
And I’d hate to see them move away.

I remember when times were much different.
When laughter and song filled each room.
They always made each other happy:
There was no room for trouble or gloom.

Their three kids were young when they built me.
And my owners were happy and gay.
But soon they brought in a boy baby.
That started those folks turning gray.

My basement was a place for those children,
To let their imaginations run free.
I always took pride that they loved me.
I was where they all wanted to be.

I was always the place for their parties;
Teen-agers were here by the score.
No one was ever excluded.
There always was room for one more.

They’ve kept my surroundings quite lovely,
With green lawns and trees around me.
A place for their children to frolic,
Where they could be happy and free.

Now, those children have grown up and left me.
They have lovely homes of their own.
But I ever will cherish the mem’ries
Of them before they were grown.

Now they oft bring their children and grandkids
To parties that my owners still give.
For it brings back fond thoughts of their childhood.
I’m the place where their memories live.

For always I’ve given them shelter
From the hard knocks that life often brought.
And they builded their lives on the virtues
And lessons their parents have taught.

Yes, they say they have bought me my last coat,
And e’er long they’ll be laid to their rest.
But their family will never forget me,
For my shelter will always be best.

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3 thoughts on “Musings of an Old House

  1. Craig on said:

    Response to “an Old House”

    So, your owners have bought you a new coat.
    You’re looking all shiny and fine
    But now you are feeling nostalgic
    In fact, you are starting to whine

    You’re “The Yellow House on the Corner”
    And your owners are wrinkled and gray.
    But that’s really to be quite expected
    When they’re out in your yard every day.

    You moan about when “times were different”
    When “laughter and song filled each room.”
    I’m glad you can think back on last week
    And the week before that, you baboon

    “I was always the place for their parties;”
    And you still are, from what I can tell
    Teen-agers, kids and great-grandkids
    And neighbors and strangers as well

    “Now, those children have grown up and left me.”
    Puh-leese! Let us wipe off a tear
    They all live within 30 minutes
    Except one prodigal (who visits twenty-six times each year).

    Yes, “they oft bring their kids” and your grandkids
    But it’s not for fond thoughts, you old fool
    Sure, there are mem’ries of childhoods gone by
    But today there’s a basement and pool.

    So thanks for the sentimental journey
    A trip down your yellow-brick way
    Enjoy reflecting on your “last coat,”
    But be ready for us all next Saturday.

  2. Laura on said:

    ‘Tis not a shock that Old Man Brxb’s
    Held in veneration.
    His poetry is evidence,
    Of great imagination.

    A compliment to him that it
    Inspires imitation.
    The Brooksby rhyming gene, it’s clear,
    Afflicts each generation. 🙂

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