Now so the Dawn with it’s light to bare,
Brings forth the Homes of Denizens Square,
As frame by frame ‘Monopoly’ like,
A line of buildings bloom in sight.
For face to face they seemingly stare,
All ‘Semi-Detached’ with 40s flair,
Their facades unchanged by decades tide,
Though Owners aged and long since died.
Now Sleepy heads begin to rise,
And rub all weary, tiring eyes,
Into the breach once more of life,
They struggle on, come pain or strife.
To soon appear under urban skies,
Each one a tale where looks belie,
For is that Miss Lee that tends the Beds,
That bobbing mass of Marjoram bred.
A picture of calm and placid air,
But she’ll take her life and shake the Square.
And young Sam Miller of eminent rank,
A position of trust in the dear old Bank,
But it has been said he dabbles in,
The Cocaine life and Madam Sin.
Then Mr Joyce to the Church he steps,
A pious Heart where God is kept,
And to his glory rings the Bell,
But gives his Wife pure Merry Hell.
As for Mr Flynn all Charm and Sweet,
What hopeful Spouse could wish to meet,
But once beneath his Weathered Roof,
His daily meal is 100 Proof.
For behind all doors a Story lies,
When stripped of all Theatrical guise,
Theres many a garment we daily wear,
For we all reside in a Denizens Square.
-
Author:
Kevin Hulme (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 13th, 2025 19:52
- Comment from author about the poem: It’s like when you see People on the Street or someone we know and think we get the Public Face , but behind closed doors? Do we really know someone.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: Cassie58
Offline)
Comments3
Behind closed doors, such an interesting poem. We really don’t know much about people at all. Once that door is shut, who knows what occurs. Much enjoyed Kevin. My mind drifted with this poem.
Thank you for Reading. Good that you liked it .
When we get to know people that’s when the real world opens up, the essence of a neighborhood teeming with hidden lives and secrets, revealing the multifaceted nature of its residents. Just beautiful! 🙏🏻🕊👍🏻
Yes, life’s not like in a ‘Soap’ where everyone knows each other, and in and out of their homes. Thank you.
Nicely done. A fine write. This reminded me of Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas, and also a little of the Beatles song Penny Lane.
Flattering comparisons .
I do have ‘Under Milk Wood’ and found it a bit strange, though long time since I read it. Thanks for reading.
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