Such beauty in an old roof,
the wood once painted
bright brown red.
as little kids we looked up at the roof,
on the back attached was a little old shed.
Beside was a big old tree,
and if we could grab the branch,
and swing our legs.
Up on the old garage roof we would be.
We would sit and tell stories hoping to never get caught,
Because we all knew, we were supposed to be up there, not.
So we would take turns as a lookout,
And if we saw the adults coming back from their work,
we would jump down into the trees and that is where we would lurk.
I remember many a skinned hand or knee,
somehow it was always harder getting down than going up a tree.
The old roof still stands on the farm today,
Some would say knock it down,
But I would say, Please let it stay!
I hope you see the beauty in everything around you.
Have a fabulous day.