Years ago, in the big house I grew up in,
There was a basement, a storage room used by my kin.
It was dark and dank, very humid and moist,
For storing walnuts in coal buckets, it was choice.
There was stuff down there from who knows when,
Old papers, pictures, and boxes both fat and thin.
Non-family never went down there--what's there to see?
Every house in Omaha had one that they could see for free.
It's kinda fun to go someplace where most folks don't,
Like travel in western Nebraska--most folks won't.
By contrast, our younger son is finishing his lower level sweet,
The ceiling, walls and flooring will be decorator neat.
The recessed lighting has dimmer switches available,
These accoutrements will make the home much more saleable.
Daughter-in-law Holly gets this far off look in her eye,
Son Jesse finds a way to make it happen w/o asking why?
As with most projects, this has taken longer than thought,
Remember the inventor's quote, "What hath God wrought?"
How much will all this cost?--I haven't a clue,
But what will it all be worth?--Now there's a thought new!
Will they call it a mezzanine or den, this area from heaven sent?
It's only half finished and it's definitely not a basement!
When it's all done and we can sit and relax at a party jolly,
We'll have a moment of silence to remember the workers, Hale and Holly.
Dave Hale Ottawa, Ks 2/27/12 hale-agency.com
Dave likes to put together words to make poems. Sometimes the rhythms are great and sometimes they are a stretch. Either way they will make you think, make you laugh, make you wonder what's going on with Dave. :)