OLD RED BARN
OLD RED BARN
Adam Jones
December 2008
Knowledge and wisdom are things for which we all yearn.
No matter our age, we always want to learn.
Everyone needs a place to be taught to carry life’s load.
For me an old red barn was the beginning of the road.
My teacher was a tough, hardworking, simple man.
With a grease covered jean jacket, bloodied arms, and skin leather tan.
Simple in honest beliefs and attire,
But a mind every man strives to acquire.
With tools to fix most everything,
It was a place I truly loved being.
So many nuts and bolts there was no measure,
And a junk pile filled with many a treasure.
We changed oil, mufflers, starters, and shocks.
Anything is possible with a truck up on blocks.
Dog houses were built and boats restored,
With so much to do we were never bored.
In time I learned there was something special about this place.
Blood, sweat, and dirt are enough to bring a smile to any boy’s face.
But it was more than that, fore I was learning real values.
Working side by side with my brothers, we couldn’t lose.
Sometimes I feel lost now without that place, that man.
Going on without them hasn’t been easy, but I believe that I can.
The traditions passed on are deep within me.
Never to be forgotten, a part of who I always will be.
Just the smell of grease takes me back to those days.
To a special place and a special man, set in his ways.
I don’t know if I will ever find a place I feel as content,
As I did in that old red barn where most of my youth was spent.
Adam Jones
December 2008
Knowledge and wisdom are things for which we all yearn.
No matter our age, we always want to learn.
Everyone needs a place to be taught to carry life’s load.
For me an old red barn was the beginning of the road.
My teacher was a tough, hardworking, simple man.
With a grease covered jean jacket, bloodied arms, and skin leather tan.
Simple in honest beliefs and attire,
But a mind every man strives to acquire.
With tools to fix most everything,
It was a place I truly loved being.
So many nuts and bolts there was no measure,
And a junk pile filled with many a treasure.
We changed oil, mufflers, starters, and shocks.
Anything is possible with a truck up on blocks.
Dog houses were built and boats restored,
With so much to do we were never bored.
In time I learned there was something special about this place.
Blood, sweat, and dirt are enough to bring a smile to any boy’s face.
But it was more than that, fore I was learning real values.
Working side by side with my brothers, we couldn’t lose.
Sometimes I feel lost now without that place, that man.
Going on without them hasn’t been easy, but I believe that I can.
The traditions passed on are deep within me.
Never to be forgotten, a part of who I always will be.
Just the smell of grease takes me back to those days.
To a special place and a special man, set in his ways.
I don’t know if I will ever find a place I feel as content,
As I did in that old red barn where most of my youth was spent.
posted by raddad at 12:09 AM
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