House Full of Fortune - Deborah Silverstein

    In a house full of fortune, both cruel and kind
    A man and a woman spun out their lives
    They raised children and rustled for dreams
    Through the blossoms and brambles of the years' passing scenes

    Now the children are scattered, on weekends they call
    While memories gather on frames on the wall
    It's not age that startled him, chilling his bones
    But that he's completing the journey alone.

    He tells me he's fine when I call on the phone
    That he's been to a play and played cards down the road
    But I know that every day round about noon
    He's walked to her grave and told her the same news.

    His house stands guardian over the past
    Each portrait and pillow where she placed it last
    Three years now we've urged him to move on
    But it's there he finds shelter from the pain that she's gone

    I ache to protect him from life's last cruel turn
    I wrestle with fate's great lack of concern
    For this sweet man's devotion to his dearest friend
    And his bittersweet longing that but fate will end

    words and music © 1986 by Deborah Silverstein


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