She had a loving family, piped the chairs
sitting beside the table;
a loyal father, chortled the Baylor shirt
laying on the table next to a mug;
a sweet, hardworking mother, babbled the bottle of perfume
sitting on the windowsill, lit by the sun;
and an intelligent little sister, sang the laptop
sitting on the desktop cluttered with paper.
They were a faithful family, praised the Bible
with the purple cover and the journal
worn with writing laying on the couch.
And they taught her educational value,
added the workbooks sitting on the shelf.
They taught her wisdom,
murmured the stacked books against the wall.
They cared deeply about her future,
squealed the piggy bank full of coins,
leaning against the calendar.
Her parents urged her to be a devoted golfer,
snapped the worn out golf clubs
and dirty golf balls laying on the green grass.
And her devotion payed off, boasted the medals
piled in a chest.
There were fights, wailed the empty box of tissues
on the sink. The magnets on the fridge
assured that they would manage to stick together; the box of letters on her desk
prattled that she loved them. And the clothes
on the hangers persisted that they loved her just the same.
And happiness? Their happiness gave them many memories that they would never forget,
the photo album on the chair laughed.
Her family taught her to be loyal, sweet, hardworking, intelligent, and wise.
Though her family was never perfect, she stayed with them and loved them with all of her heart.