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Kelly K. Sweet

History House

In family history
I wandered
Through rooms of photographs
A story told, for each and every one
Across the years carried
To meet those I never knew
Sharing the laughter and feeling the tears
My hand lightly touches heirlooms of my family
and of hers, my dear story teller
Historian for all my years
Necklaces long encased in trucks
Now out of place
About a ten year olds neck
While with bated breath awaits
To hear who and where this truly belongs
Then reverently patted back into case
To eagerly await the next wonder of this place
From cellar to attic
Front door to back wall
This place has it all
Secrets for a child to find
Storys to capture a youthful heart
Challenges for an eager mind
Across the hills I roamed
The wild bull my Uncle warned
I never knew to fear
In the tall grass never a snake I met
Here lay a childs world of grace
Free and unfettered by any face
For in the outdoors exploring was the rule
Then in the dear house
Met by gingerbread and memorys
Held in hand by historian self appointed
She shared all there was
I knew not what value or worth
She knew a child could hold
Yet I knew the treasures
I carried In my heart and in my mind
Treasures that can never be stolen away
Were of the value of pure gold
Spanish doubloons discovered on a deserted isle
Gems glittering in a far away cave
The thrill the wonder of each new discovery
Carrys me even now
That childhoods gone on its way
To drift and dream
To hear the storys again, spoken in my mind
With the rich smells of ginger or pumpkin
Drifting on by.