It is amazing how our memories are so vivid when triggered by the sight of a forgotten treasure from our past. A long time has passed since I thought of my old bin of blocks. The sight of them jolts my mind; I am overwhelmed. As I pick up the toys strewn across my nephew’s bedroom, I find myself looking back……

See the sparkling, bright-blue eyes,
the tiny fingers, minute hands.
Each part so small;
perfectly formed,
from soft, downy hair
to the tips of ten toes.
This little person is
full of life;
a sign of love and
our future’s hope.

Children, grandchildren, great and great-great, too
She taught all something no matter the age.
Five generations she spread her love through
And wrote special notes on our life’s book’s page.

Now we remember the times she was near
Reflecting on her magnanimous deeds
And think of the moments we all hold dear
And the intelligence planted like seeds.

A glimpse of my old friend
Brings a flood of memories;
Of laughter and sorrow,
Of hymns and symphonies.

Mem’ries of the whole new world
She opened up to me.
Full of magic and music,
A world that is carefree.

I remember the songs
With which she eased my pain.
Her quiet, steady voice
Was like Spring’s healing rain.

A true and loyal friend,
She held my secrets dear
Of what the future held
And the reason for my tears.

In the twilight, stars and trees
Began to sing, began to voice
The sound of earth and song of sky,
Began to play their haunting strains.

O hear them, hush now, listen close-
They're singing now, the ethereal ones,
They're singing now, the aerial beings,
They're singing now, the stars and trees.

Be still, be silent, little one,
And listen to the stars and trees,
Listen to their lullabies,
Only heard by quiet hearts.

In English, the dictionary contains nine different definitions for the noun “home.” Number one, “A place where one lives; residence” best fits people’s idea of home today (American Heritage, 407). Millions of Americans move every year. Houses serve mainly as investments and very temporary residences instead of the core of a family. My family lived in a perfect, hundred year old farmhouse for 15 years and never once did we move.

Note: I wrote this story based off of the traditional Irish song, The Fields of Athenry. I've pasted it at the end of the story, but I did not write it.

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I watched out the sun-roof,
As we drove towards the city,
As millions of Diamonds spluttered,
Dimmed, Agony, Faded, Monotony -
Blinding traffic lights, tranquility lost.
Someone tell me we haven't lost sight.

Once Upon a Time…
A Strange Sort of Prologue

My House:
My house is a warm place. They are four bedrooms, a small dinner room with a good many chairs, living room with three sofas.
In my house all my family´s members have a rol:

The yard is great, this have many different types of fruit trees such as: papaya, orange, lemon, canella, etc.