THIS OLD HOUSE

THIS OLD HOUSE

Prologue:
This house stands on a hill
Not very far from me.
Haunting stories give a chill
Of its past history.

The Poem:

This old house is deserted,
No one lives here anymore,
Aging through the seasons,
Rain falling on the floor.

There’s an echo of laughter,
As wind blows down the hall.
A faint shadow of two lovers
Just shadows on the wall.

Cloudy are the memories
Of this house once so fine
Built with heart and soul,
Swallowed now by time.

The windows are all broken,
It no longer has a door.
A house too long forsaken,
Slipping back into folklore.

09/15/09
Monty