Poems from Kacey's Corner
The Old Mill
This poem was created for my Mother, who's childhood was spent near an old mill like the one described in the poem.
It is a poem of nostalgia, my favorite kind of poetry.
The Old Mill
They stood side by side by the rusty old mill
And memory took them back to a time
When, as lovers, they strolled by it's churning old wheel
and smelled the sweet honeysuckle vine
They held hands and laughed, a couple of kids
Totally wrapped up in their world.
He was her everything, all she could want
And she was his only girl.
She'd help him pick out a cool, grassy spot
and they'd share lunch beside this old mill.
He'd study her face, her long golden hair
and he knew that no other could fill
the place in his heart that she had long ago claimed
~for he had dreamed every dream of this girl
She had captured his heart in the wink of an eye
and now had become his whole world.
The old mill was their place to go
when they wanted to be alone.
A sturdy, strong friend with the old churning wheel
On this quaint, faded building of stone.
They married right there, beside the old mill
On a Heavenly, bright, sunny day
When their children were born, they took each one there
and it became their favorite place to play.
The old wheel just kept turning and turning
Though it was gray and dusty with age.
Like a favorite book one has read many times
Each year was a well written page.
The years took their toll
and her hair was now gray
For her, more than ever, he cared.
And the old wheel still turned and the tree was still strong
As strong as the love they still shared.
When the wheel became silent and the water stopped flowing
as if God had planned it that way--
the Angels took them on the very same day
They would have wanted it that way.
The tree still stands proudly, where once they had sat--
Spinning dreams of the life they would build.
and above in a sky forever blue
Two Angels guard the rusty old mill.
All Rights Reserved-Anne Shanholtz, 2004
This poem can be viewed with music and graphics at the link below:
http://kaceyone.com/bistro2/old_mill.html
It is a poem of nostalgia, my favorite kind of poetry.
The Old Mill
They stood side by side by the rusty old mill
And memory took them back to a time
When, as lovers, they strolled by it's churning old wheel
and smelled the sweet honeysuckle vine
They held hands and laughed, a couple of kids
Totally wrapped up in their world.
He was her everything, all she could want
And she was his only girl.
She'd help him pick out a cool, grassy spot
and they'd share lunch beside this old mill.
He'd study her face, her long golden hair
and he knew that no other could fill
the place in his heart that she had long ago claimed
~for he had dreamed every dream of this girl
She had captured his heart in the wink of an eye
and now had become his whole world.
The old mill was their place to go
when they wanted to be alone.
A sturdy, strong friend with the old churning wheel
On this quaint, faded building of stone.
They married right there, beside the old mill
On a Heavenly, bright, sunny day
When their children were born, they took each one there
and it became their favorite place to play.
The old wheel just kept turning and turning
Though it was gray and dusty with age.
Like a favorite book one has read many times
Each year was a well written page.
The years took their toll
and her hair was now gray
For her, more than ever, he cared.
And the old wheel still turned and the tree was still strong
As strong as the love they still shared.
When the wheel became silent and the water stopped flowing
as if God had planned it that way--
the Angels took them on the very same day
They would have wanted it that way.
The tree still stands proudly, where once they had sat--
Spinning dreams of the life they would build.
and above in a sky forever blue
Two Angels guard the rusty old mill.
All Rights Reserved-Anne Shanholtz, 2004
This poem can be viewed with music and graphics at the link below:
http://kaceyone.com/bistro2/old_mill.html
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The Old Mill
The Old Mill
