The Old Farmstead
by Verna Mull 11/15/2008 / Poetry
The old farmstead is still standing, but looking so forlorn
The place of my happy childhood, the place where I was born!
The porch has fallen off, the barn has tumbled down,
The paint is gone, and the boards are a grayish-brown.
Tears form in my eyes, as I behold this sad sight,
Remembering the nighttime stories Mother read at night.
The place that I first heard of my dear Savior's great love,
The place that I first prayed childhood prayers to my Father above!
Remembering playful times, as I freely roamed the hills
And depression times raged, my parents couldn't pay their bills.
During the lengthy draught, the grass all turned ugly brown,
The thistles grew anyway, and dry winds blew them around!
My brother and I tied them with old flour-sack strings,
Pretending they were pets, or other imagined things!
Then, the sadness of the day when we must leave it all behind,
Moving to Iowa, by train and car, hoping a better life we'd find.
Remembering God's faithfulness to my sad little heart .
Leaving two sets of grandparents when we had to depart.
The trip was eventful, as my cat escaped the cage in the car.
Of course, we couldn't find her, as we'd traveled so far.
My mother had tried to comfort, but I shed many a tear,
God heard my prayer, "Fluffy" returned to that home that year.
And now, as I leave the old homestead behind ,me again,
My heart is touched once more, how faithful God has been!
Someday I'll leave all the "old homesteads" of my own life,
The cares of this world, the joys, and yes, some strife!
To move once again, to a place I haven't known,
But in my heart, I'm certain, that place will be Home!
It will not collapse as the "old homestead" dear to my heart,
I will be Home with my Savior forever, never to depart!
An elderly Christian who has learned to depend upon the Lord. He is sufficient to meet our needs in any circumstance of life. I only want to honor Him