A poem to start the day.
Posted by jtrussell on December 20, 2007
For Her
It was just a table
but he made it for her.
He carved the wood,
and sanded down the grain.
The legs were round
and solid,
the top was plain.
You could see the imperfections
and the knots
but it was sturdy and would hold
its charges.
It was made for food
and children and laughter.
It was made for family.
It was made to hold all
the moments that make up a life.
It was made to be home.
It was just a table
but he made it for her.
