An old man setting on a porch one day,
Just rocking to and fro,
Excuse me son, can you help me please,
Where did my Martha go?
As best I recall in this old mind,
We use to laugh and play,
I'd hold her tight, and soothe her face,
Where is Martha at today?
I am sorry sir, I do not know,
Where Martha is today,
Is she in the house dear one,
Or walking along the way?
I've looked in the house, I've searched in the way,
I don't get around much anymore,
Her favorite spot I did not check,
Just right behind the door.
I helped him get to his feet,
That he might check once more,
And sure enough, there she was,
Curled up behind the door.
Author
Franklin Spriggs
Feb 20,2008
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is definitely a ten. You paint a nice picture. Thanks. Richard