That Shack

Poem By Nancy L. Wilson

Behind the shack in the woods there used to be,
a tired, gnarled old tree, where you shared your love with me.
Beside the blanket on the grass.
Wild flowers used to grow,
and I will always know, how much you love me.
Sometimes memories pull me back,
to the forest and the shack,
where our love began so long ago.
I still can see, that gnarled old tree,
and the love you gave to me, on the blanket, on the ground,
with wild flowers growing 'round.
Once again, I'll feel the love
that continues to grow,
like that tree of long ago.

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Other poems of NANCY L. WILSON

Little Buckaroo

My little buckaroo, trying to rope an' ride like big people do.
Small fingers turning ropes into knots,
throwin' at dogs and mom's flower pots.
Daddy's old number pinned to your chest you're sure you're the best.