Do you recall, Ancient One?

olderhouseysmall

Eyes fogged by cataracts of dust and grime

Rusted tears of neglected shame.

Those you’ve sheltered stolen by time

No one left to recall your master’s name.

logsidingsmall

Those skillful hands that built your shell, now rest beneath the soil.

Yet cursed with an extended life, you’re forced to endure each era alone.

Generations came and went, until the day that final breath came in toil.

The final master was carried away, and hence forth, you’ve been silent as a stone.

burnpitsmall

They gathered round your flaming hearth, to sing, laugh, and love

Stockings hung on Christmas past, enticing children to behave.

Can you still hear them, ancient one? Into your structure are those memories wove?

What of the one who wore this brace? To its support, was he a slave?

leggybrace

 

 

Swept towards Eternity

waterfall

Swiftly swept – no say have we; For time’s torrent waits not for thee. Youth flows post-haste – Looks will flee. The soul remains for eternity.

Love is all – the rest’s fool’s gold. Guard thy tongue and don’t let it scold. Warm thy heart’s core – Don’t grow cold. For Heaven awaits with joys untold.

Heed The Wise

sharpcurve

That road ahead, the warning signs placed by those who’ve gone before,

I sense deception, they cannot be trusted, they guide to the mundane

A life of fun, adventure, my way, anything else is a bore

Ignore their words, their banal minds have grown far too lame

Steer my life away from stoicism, only frivolity satisfies my core

Nothing untoward shall happen to me, it’s all a silly game

ditchdive

Help! Your advice had merit, should have heeded, mired forever I’ll be

Shake your heads, when I open my eyes, that’s what I’ll see

No? Wait! With rope and chain you’re all coming back for me

fixedroad

You rescued me, despite my mockery, set me on a clear road

My family, friends, because of you, I will live each day, gratefully.

A Cinquain about Home

 

Okay, so awhile back I tried my hand at some poetry (see A Fireside Tanka, Aug. 30), and today another attempt is being made. This is just a Cinquain about being content with your home and lifestyle, despite what society says.

goofytruck

On blocks or wheels, sanctuary for me

The world outside but a caustic soup

Campstove, canned ravioli, so content I’ll be

No stairs or room for a group

Mansions won’t move at the turn of a key