The House
RocketMan
Registered Users Posts: 236 Major grins
Besides dabbling in photography I also enjoy riding vintage motorcycles (both for commuting and pleasure) and writing poems, essays and articles relating to my motorcycling adventures or whatever else happens to wonder into the dim recesses of my rusting “brain bucket”. While I’ve been combining my many hours of motorcycling with photography for some years now, I have recently started on a new project that attempts to put into words the images or thoughts that a particular photograph brings to mind. Occasionally I even manage to combine all three as in this example where the image is one taken in West Virginia while on a motorcycle trip to Ohio for a vintage motorcycling event. (Now I just need to figure out how to do all three at the same time! 
)
For me an image may invoke a simple emotion, while others tell me a story, this is one of the latter, a story that the house whispered to me as I was photographing it.
(hopefully I’m not breaking any covenants or unwritten rules by posting something other a just a photograph here, if so I apologies in advance!)
I Remember
Nestled quietly on an overgrown hillside
I am filled with memories.
Much more than a mere shell
I exist as a living testimony to the past.
I remember the Father
with the face of a miner.
Darkened by the years
of digging deep within the black bowels of the earth.
I remember the Mother
with the hands of a giver.
Wrinkled by the years
of cleaning and mending and tending the garden.
I remember the Children
with the eyes of youth.
Bright with the wonder
of a world filled with simple mountain treasures.
I remember the green fields
planted with summer hay.
The soft fragrances
of herbs and the bountiful garden that fed my family.
I remember the Laughter
and the family gatherings on my front porch.
Sunday readings from the book
of revelations, praising the glory of the Maker's creations.
I remember the joy of new arrivals,
and the sadness of departures.
A familiar acceptance
of that which simply is and can not be changed by woman or man.
Where are my children now?
They are grown and departed.
They have built new houses
of love and filled them with the joy they once knew within my walls.
Where are my Father and Mother?
they now rest in the field.
Risen from the ashes
and returned to the earth, where I too must follow, my purpose fulfilled.
Nestled quietly on an overgrown hillside
I am filled with memories.
Much more than a mere shell
I exist as a living testimony to the past.
And I Remember.
[font="]
RM
http://roadrunes.com
[/font]
© 2004 Jeffry L'H. Tank
)For me an image may invoke a simple emotion, while others tell me a story, this is one of the latter, a story that the house whispered to me as I was photographing it.
(hopefully I’m not breaking any covenants or unwritten rules by posting something other a just a photograph here, if so I apologies in advance!)
I Remember
Nestled quietly on an overgrown hillside
I am filled with memories.
Much more than a mere shell
I exist as a living testimony to the past.
I remember the Father
with the face of a miner.
Darkened by the years
of digging deep within the black bowels of the earth.
I remember the Mother
with the hands of a giver.
Wrinkled by the years
of cleaning and mending and tending the garden.
I remember the Children
with the eyes of youth.
Bright with the wonder
of a world filled with simple mountain treasures.
I remember the green fields
planted with summer hay.
The soft fragrances
of herbs and the bountiful garden that fed my family.
I remember the Laughter
and the family gatherings on my front porch.
Sunday readings from the book
of revelations, praising the glory of the Maker's creations.
I remember the joy of new arrivals,
and the sadness of departures.
A familiar acceptance
of that which simply is and can not be changed by woman or man.
Where are my children now?
They are grown and departed.
They have built new houses
of love and filled them with the joy they once knew within my walls.
Where are my Father and Mother?
they now rest in the field.
Risen from the ashes
and returned to the earth, where I too must follow, my purpose fulfilled.
Nestled quietly on an overgrown hillside
I am filled with memories.
Much more than a mere shell
I exist as a living testimony to the past.
And I Remember.
[font="]
RM
http://roadrunes.com
[/font]
© 2004 Jeffry L'H. Tank
http://roadrunes.com
"It's better to bite the hand that feeds you, than to feed the hand that bites you" - Me
"It's better to bite the hand that feeds you, than to feed the hand that bites you" - Me
0
Comments
Don't ya just love these old houses and barns and buildings that you come across while travelling........they have so much character.
I know this post is from last year, but I found it searching for orphaned posts.
Whenever I see people post these type of shots I can't help but wonder why the occupants abandoned the building in the first place ????
I don't know what it is about abandoned buildings that give that sense of "All Is Not Well" a sense of sorrow, that a lot of memories are now lost.
Thank you for this lovely post, I thoroughly enjoyed it..... Skippy (Australia)
Skippy (Australia) - Moderator of "HOLY MACRO" and "OTHER COOL SHOTS"
ALBUM http://ozzieskip.smugmug.com/
:skippy Everyone has the right to be stupid, but some people just abuse the privilege :dgrin
Gosh it looks like its made of stones or rocks ?? actually it looks in great condition too ........ are they renovating it, or is it boarded up just to keep unwanted folks out ??
Nice shot.........how old do you think that dwelling is ?? any idea ?
Thanks for sharing...... Skippy (Australia)
Skippy (Australia) - Moderator of "HOLY MACRO" and "OTHER COOL SHOTS"
ALBUM http://ozzieskip.smugmug.com/
:skippy Everyone has the right to be stupid, but some people just abuse the privilege :dgrin
With those golden leaves and the red of the roof this is a very colorful photo, and the deeper hue of the lone chair on the porch coordinate nicely. I bet it's a different feel in winter, but as you shot it, it seems a shame this house is not being put to good use.
I wonder if some neighbor walks over, sits in the chair and daydreams about days gone by?
Sure does get the imagination going!
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