Who are you calling old?

‘That’s the old barn.’ Who are you calling old?

I am wise and experienced, and with tales to be told.

From the forbidden lover’ kiss, to the teary lovers spat.

From the handsome farmhand, to the elderly aristocrat.

I’m a creation to last the ages, built in Eighteen-Sixteen.

I survived the seasonal changes, but just ignore the slight lean.

I’ve seen wars and hardship, then peace and prosperity.

I’ve seen protests and brutality, then poverty and austerity.

Concrete bases and wooden beams, nails and string,

Painted brown and then red, decorated for a King.

As years pass by, I may peel and rot,

But yet I stay standing in my prime spot.

Generation after generation have sheltered in my walls,

On wood and straw, in the comfort of the stalls.

Now, in the new century, a new heir takes their place,

To claim the land as theirs and enjoy their own space.

But you are not new to me, I recognise your face.

You smiled as you returned to your birthplace.

Do you not ask where it was that you took your first step?

I sang your mothers praises, till you tripped on the doorstep.

You hid within my walls for the game of hide and seek,

You cried within my stalls when everything seemed so bleak.

I met your first love, before even your mother.

Just as I did with your great-great-grandmother.

You’ve returned to claim your right as eldest son,

To inherit a farm which you’ll have to run.

Through the cold of winter and the highs of summer,

I’ll cheer and prey for you, my unprepared newcomer.

I stand proud and tall at the edge of the field,

As you fight in the cornfield that refuses to yield.

I provide you some cover when it starts to rain,

I stay firm and unyielding as the money starts to drain.

He came knocking again, that wretched debt collector,

My doors barred him entry, I am your protector.

With a hopeless outlook, you sew this year’s seed,

You kneel in the field as you pray and you plead.

The winter is kind and the harvest is swell,

You grow plenty of food for the market to sell.

You meet a new man, who has great potential,

His business knowhow is increasingly essential.

Together you make plans for the farm in prosperity,

You grow together and make memories with hilarity.

As spring blossoms, there’s new life to the farm,

A new babe with all of your sweetness and charm.

One step and two step, under my roof you teach,

In a show of good parenting, you gave your own fathers speech.

Forbidden love romances and a drunken teenagers night,

You feel sorry for your own parents, you feel quite contrite.

You age and you grey and your daughter takes over,

For more prosperous harvests and a great turnover.

You watch from the house as your old farm grows,

You sit and stay silent so you don’t impose.

But welcomed within my walls, you still are,

You don’t need to sit and dream from afar.

Reminisce, laugh and rest, just like old times,

Your husband and you can escape your confines.

A new dawn is approaching, a new life for you and I,

Of rest and peaceful existence, while the clouds gather in the sky.

The wind picks up and you run back to your home.

Eras cannot last forever, even when built with wood, string and stone.

The storm approaches and I bid you farewell,

I sway and I prey, but to the ground I did fell.

What a life it’s been, to stand for so long,

Live life to the fullest, be happy and be strong.