The Old Picket Fence Poem

More about The Old Picket Fence Poem

Weathered and worn, with tales to tell,
Stands the old picket fence, weathered and swell.
Its paint has faded, its wood grown gray,
But memories linger, from a bygone day.
Once pristine white, in its youthful prime,
Marking the boundary, standing in time.
A sentinel of home, a symbol of pride,
A shelter for flowers, on its length they'd ride.
Children played, their laughter near,
Leaning against its pickets, without a fear.
Gatherings held, with friends and kin,
Along its length, a welcoming grin.
Through seasons passed, it stood its ground,
Enduring storms and weathering each round.
Witness to the changing times, a silent guide,
A sentinel of memories, standing with pride.
Years go by, the old picket fence remains,
A reminder of a home that once contained.
Its wood now aged, with cracks and bends,
But the memories it holds, never wanes.
A testament to love, and memories made,
Of cherished moments, that never fade.
The old picket fence, with its charm and grace,
A treasure of the past, in its rightful place.