Placeholder Picture

Barns

by Rex Valentine (USA)

There are those who love to see

a barn upon a hill.

Especially if it’s painted red;

they seem to get a thrill.

Nostalgic vibes attack their minds,

and though they wonder why,

that barn sets off a rush, designs

a mental stimuli.

Intriguing thoughts were planted there

in years before they’d grown.

Maybe seeds got in their hair

when they were not alone,

and hay became a hiding place

to talk, so quietly,

and look upon a friendly face

with resonant energy.



Or was there an exciting swing

with rope that dangled free.

Where tummies thrilled as they took wing

and sailed out breathlessly,

falling in sweet smelling hay,

precluding any pain.

It made them quickly climb, and say,

“Here I go again.”



The love of barns sneaks up on those

at times, they don’t know why.

We see them write exciting prose

about a barn, and sign,

then, as they dream, and so compose

a lovely story poem,

about a barn, they then disclose

they want it for their home.

Placeholder Picture