There were striations on the bridge.
It gave a antique look to the weather worn ridge,
That spanned the creek next to our house in town.
My Dad, Uncle and Grandfather gathered all around.
Week after week the house took shape.
With doses of knotty pine and gray shakes.
The most appealing sight was the water rushing bye.
Nearly all the trees blotting out the sky.
Water hitting huge rocks caused a sound,
Eerie like a babbling brook abound.
It was a wonderful place for children to play.
I loved it when my cousin came to stay.
We had picnics on the islands of rocks.
We often waded but also lost our socks.
Our Dad's and Grandfather just laughed a lot,
Which sometimes caused us to become distraught.
Now we have grown and moved far away.
Our beloved carpenters are enjoying Heaven's bouquet.
Vivid memories will always linger near our family home.
Staying fast, never will they fade away or roam.

© Carol Oliver

Midi: "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" from Jack Hall
The Corner Lounge


The picture I used on this set is courtesy of
Lore92565@aol.com