Going, Going, Gone

Going, Going, Gone
by Jean Martin

It stood there in a thicket of trees,
Only disturbed by the drone of bees,
Filled with years of memories,
Going, going, gone.

How many years did I watch the sunrise?
There on the porch, through sleepy eyes?
Watching Canadian geese fly by?
                                           Going, going, gone.

Our one hundred-year-old house was fit,
Our children played in front of it,
Memories that I will not forget,
Going, going, gone.

Someone came to our hometown,
Chopped the thicket of our trees down,
Leveled our farmhouse to the ground,
Going, going, gone.

Never gave thought to how many years,
Of toil and sweat, of joy and tears,
Of pain and sorrow, courage and fears,
Going, going, gone.

Wantonly they destroyed our land,
As if it all were made of sand,
Here where our heritage stands,
Going, going, gone.

Large sums of money changed hands one day,
Someone took our life away,
But in my heart it will always stay,
Though it’s going, going……….gone.