Sunday, January 10, 2010

Old Barns




Old Barns
Inga Gilson Caldwell

Old barns retain a mystic quality,
Within high raftered beams, the scent still clings
Of fragrant clover mixed with timothy;
Between the wide spaced boards, a wind harp sings
While sunlight forms pipe organ patterns on
The spacious floor where dust motes dance at will.

Within the choir loft, in unison,
Birds sing their choral music, versatile
In repertoire as any symphony.
Above a stable barn once, long ago,
A star of prophecy bent down and so
Old barns retain a mystic quality.





2 comments:

~~Carol~~ said...

I love barns! I could very happily travel across the country, taking pictures of them. Whenever I go visit my aunt and uncle, who now live in my grandparents' house, I have to go smell the barn and take new pictures of it!

Julie Harward said...

Beautiful, I loved that because we had a big red barn as a child growing up on a farm. I used to play in all the time, I remember the smell of the hay and the birds. Ours was so nice that local dances were held in it! We used to swing (from the big opening at the top)on a big round rope, way out and then drop into a big pile of straw! I'll never forget the sweet smell of clover either! Thanks..come say hi :D