PROGRESS

The old couple sat on the porch
Watching the sun sink in the west,
The old swing chair creaked quietly,
It seemed to lend a peaceful touch
To the scene so calmly displayed.
They had a faraway look in their eyes,
Each thinking the self-same thoughts
Of hundreds of happy hours spent
In their home, now coming to demise.
For they had a letter telling them
That their house was in the way
Of a mighty six lane highway,
Which meant the house must come down,
This was home, they did so want to stay.

A man came to visit them with an offer,
Far more then the home was worth,
Yet he looked round and saw the place
And he said with a kind smile on his face,
“I don’t think I would want to leave if I lived
In a place like this. But that’s progress my friends.’
They signed on the dotted lines with heavy hearts,
They cried that night as their prayers they said.
Yet they thanked God for the years they’d known
In their beautiful home midst the trees and fields,
Where the creek sang them to sleep every night.

        THE CHILDREN

Each of their children were born there,
In the big room that faced the east,
Each one brought a special type of joy
As they entered into the home so rare,
For their’s was a special kind of love
That always seemed to have been there.
When each child was born they planted with prayer
A new fruit tree and then tended them with care.
Each child knew which was their tree,
It helped give them a purpose in life,
And what ever seemed to happen
They stuck together through strife.
Meg, the eldest now sixty and a mother of nine,
Made it to be a teacher, with a husband so fine.
Mark has a big farm with acres of rolling grain,
Has six children and a wife of great fame.
Cindy had died as a child and the pain lingers on,
She died in their arms, holding her long after life had gone.
Mary was a wanderer, and all the world she’d seen,
But home was always best, where ever she had been.
Tom now a famous artist, world wide he is known,
His most famous painting is of their simple home.
Every day they both look at the children’s fruit trees,
They watch them blowing in the gentle evening breeze,
It is as though they are still with them all the time
And it fills them with a gratitude, of a loving God sublime.

        PETS
In a growing family there is many a four legged friend,
That romps, chews, muddies floors, loves to the end.
At the bottom of the garden, near the forest deep
Is a row of wooden crosses where those friends sleep.
Dusty was a large yellow dog that guarded each child,
He was full of fun, full of life, yet so gentle and mild.
He lived to be quite old, then died at his masters feet,
They placed him in the ground, hoping one day to meet.
Spot was just a little dog, he seemed all legs and tail,
There was not one thing he could not do, he could never fail
To make you want to love him, he would run and never weary,
He would play with the children all day, Then listen to the story
Before they went to bed. He lies next to Dusty, sleeping peacefully.
Yet sometimes you can hear them bark, if you listen carefully.
But the best of all the dogs that they had ever had was Blackie,
With great big paws and fluffy tail, he loved life and was lucky
To be alive. The family rescued him, beaten, scared from the pound
He grew up to be a wonderful friend, the best dog to be found.
None of the cats were forgotten in the pets special burial ground.
With Fluffy and Tigger who were loved, and Cocoa, found
Wandering cold and hungry by a tender hearted child, brought home,
He would never again be hungry, never again have to roam.

        HAPPENINGS
So many things had happened within those walls so strong
They had laughed and cried and sung many a happy song.
Births and deaths and marriages, first days and graduations,
Sad goodbyes and fond hellos and hundreds of celebrations,
So many happy Christmases spent by the fireside glow,
With the place so full in later years yet no one wanting to go.
They remembered lots of parties, and dressing up for Halloween,
Making the porch all spooky, all sorts of creatures to be seen
Making their way through the gate, then slowing down, quite scared
At the scene before them and all the noises that could be heard.
This would be the last Christmas in their beautiful home.
Everyone would be there and old friends would want to come.
Come and say goodby to the house they all loved so well.
They would stay up all night all having favourite tales to tell.


PROGRESS
They went indoors as the night set in and sat by the fire,
With all the money they would have, if they had a desire
They could go on a cruise, and live well for all their days.
But nothing could ever replace their home, everyone would praise
The wonderful places they could go, show them things to see,
But nestled near the forest, by the stream is where they’d want to be.
They carefully re-read all the papers still sitting on the table.
Then they saw that only the land was mentioned, would they be able
To move their home to a different place? Somewhere safe and sound.
They called all the children, the very next day all came round,
They held a family council as they did when they were all young.
Oh what a sight it was as they talked, oh the songs that were sung.
Every heart was full of joy their beautiful old home was still theirs,
They laughed as they remembered things, even the creak on the stairs.
The contractors building the road even gave a helping hand,
Gave instructions and where to go, choosing the right type of land.
Progress was helping them keep that home so sweet and dear,
They would not move far, so memories would always be near.

        THE PRESENT DAY
If you drive down the six line highway that runs from east to west
Near where the road turned there’s a row of crosses, pets at rest.
Also five healthy fruit trees that seem well tended with loving care,
Then a short distance away near the forest, a home half hidden there,
It is an old house with glowing windows and a welcome at the door.
Stop for awhile and find this place, have a wonderful meal for sure,
For ever since the parents passed away the children wanted to share
The love they had always known when they were growing up there.
As you enter there is love all around, a sweet feeling of content,
Well worth a little drive, time and money really well spent.

M Ann Margetson Started July 1^st completed July 5 98

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