The Walls My Family Lives Within

So, I started writing  a post today, and ended up writing a poem. Strange.  This poem had nothing to do with what I was going to write about.  But somehow it ended up coming out of me.  I am no poet.  But here is what I wrote.

The Walls My Family Lives Within

There are things inside my house, things you might not see.

It is these things that make my house a special place to me.

There's a race track in the living room, and a secret curtain cave,

for my little roaring lions on the days they're feeling brave.

There is a room inside my house with sweet dreams, and sister giggles.

And a canvas in the driveway with hopscotch and chalk squiggles.

Then in the spring there is a place with green and growing things,

where you can spy a ladybug, or hear the robins sing.

There's a front porch for us to gather, and greet friends passing by.  

And soft green grass to lay in as we gaze up at the sky.

You might see rooms and windows, and a fence that's giving in,

But my heart sees more than just the walls my family lives within.

by Maria Ellsworth