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.