In a secluded wood a lonely house sits
Amongst the trees looking forlorn
Until the winter and the Snow
Light up and relieve all the gloom
Its pathway now covered in a white blanket
And the steps now slippery with Ice
However, its lights glow like a beacon
Causing the whole house to glow
As the smoke pours out from its chimney on high
A white streak going up into the sky
It looks like a picture from a Christmas card
A warm welcome I am sure, would be had inside
To sit beside the raging fires
One in every room
To toast some bread, bake some spuds
A jolly time would be had by all
In fact, I know it would
You see, it’s where I grew up as a child
A house full of love and laughter
Memories never forgotten
As I walk down the lane, the steps remain
But the house is now a ruin
It is such a shame when things come to an end
But sadly time marches on
Moreover, my childhood was long ago
Oh to rebuild it to its former glory
But the pictures I remember
Assure that its lives on forever
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Author:
Owen Robert Cullimore (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 1st, 2026 04:22
- Comment from author about the poem: Just a few words of thought
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 2

Offline)
Comments1
A mental metaphor that blends into reality for a house does indeed represent where we lived and our past and childhood. Yet today it is different than it was then and the cobwebs and dust of time have taken it. We can only return to it in memory and maybe it should be that way. Nicely written.
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