a loving kind of crazy atmosphere.
Imposed by the one woman they held dear.
I miss those days when children played together.
Two plus three plus four, the generations
working in a constant state of moving animation.
One and all, they held each other true.
Stick figures in the pictures that they drew
where serious became a great cartoon.
She held them all within a loving center.
They never dared deny another enter.
Unselfish in their interplay.
Accepting all their different ways.
Within the heart, a flower of family.
To live beyond the strife.
Oh, precious life...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2006 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .