The farm

There’s an old farm road where the dust rolls high,

Mountain on the horizon, stars fill the sky.

Bo’s running through the yard like he owns the place,

And there’s always an extra chair, always room and grace.

Joyce is laughing, Steve’s telling stories again,

Maureen and Dilly roll in, let the weekend begin.

Mike’s got a fire going, kids running around,

We may not share blood, but look what we found.

This is the family we found along the way,

Built from a thousand ordinary days.

Christmas lights and summer nights,

County fair underneath those midway lights.

Through the mountains, through the years,

Through the laughter and a couple beers,

Life moves fast, but one thing I know—

There’s always a road that leads us home.

Cora and Greyson with a fishing pole,

Teaching ’em patience by the old fishing hole.

First little tug and their eyes light up,

Those are the moments you can’t make up.

Then fire up the Jeep, everybody pile in,

Find a mountain trail where the pavement ends.

Through the mud and creeks, making trails as we go,

Bo hanging out the window saying, “Faster! Let’s go!”

This is the family we found along the way,

Built from a thousand ordinary days.

Christmas lights and summer nights,

County fair underneath those midway lights.

Demolition derby, engines roaring loud,

Kids waving from the middle of the crowd.

Life moves fast, but one thing I know—

There’s always a road that leads us home.

Then there’s Steve and the carpet, Lord, what a day,

Cleaned one little spot and wiped the dirt away.

We stared at that patch like, “Well I’ll be damned…

Was the whole damn carpet supposed to look like THAT?”

So we cleaned the whole thing, laughing till we cried,

Another farm story that’ll never die.

Funny how the little things we never had planned,

Turn into the stories that forever withstand.

Christmas morning, coffee brewing,

Wrapping paper everywhere,

Summer evenings, porch light glowing,

Good food and folding chairs.

Some families you’re born into,

Some show up through the years,

And somehow become the people

You couldn’t picture life without here.

Yeah, we’re the family we found along the way,

And I wouldn’t trade a single crazy day.

Joyce and Steve, Cora, Greyson too,

Maureen and Dilly, Mike and Bo running loose.

From Christmas snow to summer sun,

County fairs and derby runs,

Fishing lines and muddy clothes,

Making memories down those old back roads.

Someday those kids will all be grown,

And we’ll wonder where the years have gone.

But every trail and every stone

Will hold a piece of everyone we’ve known.

So leave the porch light burning when the sun gets low,

Throw another log on, nobody has to go.

Blood ain’t the only way a family grows—

Sometimes love just finds a place…

And makes it home.