The ragged floorboards
Need replacing
The damaged sofa
Cries in vain
The windows are broken
Dereliction such a shame.
The garden path is overun
By weeds and yellowing grass
Twisted in a dance of death
Broken concrete
At each step.
Theres holes in the roof
Which birds enter
And they leave
Loose slates threaten to fall
From gutters mossed up green.
The ghosts of yesteryear
Unseen to living eyes
Wander amongst the flowers
Rosebushes, hybrid proud
The garden swing moves unaided
The gentle breeze to touch
The falling hair of the past
In memories now as such.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: September 30th, 2025 03:19
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments1
This poem paints beautifully a picture of what was once a house fallen into neglect a metaphor for a person as well. It is not just age and time that takes such a toll but disregard. It gives a melancholic feel that is somehow haunted. Very nicely written and a fave
most kind comments, thanking you and appreciated
most kind comments, thanking you and appreciated
You are most welcome
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