Foundation Stones

Those saplings of the years long past stand tall

Where once, in fruitful glory, fields were seen;
In fading furrows still the earth recalls
The plow that turned it; a man’s long lost dream.
T’was here, in reckless faith, he made his home,
And bent his back to work the sandy soil;
T’was from that windswept heap of wood and stone
His wife’s sweet voice would sound, to ease his toil.
His babies learned to walk upon these lawns,
Fed and kept by the fruits of blistered hands;
Yet the children’s laughter – the home – is gone,
And foundation stones are all that stand.
Those rocks he laid forever stay to tell
Of a love that lasts, though dreams should farewell.
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