a tale of tails, tenacity, and tedium, as told by me, usually barefoot and bellowing

Friday, October 25, 2013

dVerse~Poets Pub The Old House

THE OLD HOUSE

The old house sat without a care
Drops floated on liquid air
The night sky empty except for fog
Held no sound, no monologue
The old house stood strong and fair.

We stood where our ancestors dared
We sang their praises, said a prayer,
And stumbled lost into the bog
The old house sat.

We suddenly became aware
The porch held a rocking chair
The eyes saw not where the feet could slog
We whispered a dialogue
To remind us, Beware!
The old house sat.




20 comments:

Donna OShaughnessy said...

Well then. Found you listed over at Johns "Going Gently" Glad I did so. I love old homes and poetry. And I love your poem about the old house, among many other things. I think that I will be back. Yes I do.

Dip-Dip and the Bridge said...

Yes, old houses do seem almost alive sometimes.
Lynne x

Lynne said...

Your poem created tender thoughts . . .

Do you have a collection of your writing, poetry in print?

Brian Miller said...

very nicely done to form...i like the subject, focusing on the house and you give it quite a bit of subtle feeling....

i would not mind sitting on the porch in a rocking chair...smiles.

Sandra said...

I like it, and i like the old house that is sitting there in the fog...

kkkkaty said...

Love the subject and what you did with the form...old houses have many stories...nicely done

Maggie May said...

That was a lovely poem. It was spookily speaking to me..... that old house!
Maggie x

Nuts in May

Grace said...

If only those old houses can talk ~ Very spooking and perfect for Halloween theme ~ Good work on the form too ~

TexWisGirl said...

my favorite lines:
The night sky empty except for fog
Held no sound, no monologue

Dreaming said...

Wow. That's all I can say. You must publish (beyond the blog, of course). This is just too beautiful not to be shared with more folks. You have such a wonderful way with words. Love "liquid air" and the sky not having a monologue... and later the use of dialogue. Oh, and feet slogging. So. Darn. Good!

Björn said...

Sometimes old houses tell the stories of people that had lived there once.. a great rondeau,

Mystic_Mom said...

This so very good - I always think that old houses have some spirit in them, some memory of those who lived there. The rocking chair is just a totally cool element in this! Nicely done.

Sandee said...

Yes, there is a dialogue with some old houses. The walls tell tales.

Very well done.

Have a fabulous day. :)

rumoursofrhyme said...

Every house could tell some stories; the older the house, the more secrets it is holding on to.

Your rondeau is spot on with regards to the rules of the form. My only quibble is using fog twice as a rhyme word - three times overall in the poem, which is something that is best avoided if possible as fog is not in the refrain.

I really enjoyed this poem, Gail. Thanks for playing at dVerse.

seasideauthor said...

Very smooth and sweet flowing read here. Thanks

Ginny said...

I continue to be amazed at your poetry!!!! What do you do with it, do you have it all in a notebook? I would buy it all if there was a way, but I think I am going to print them and keep them in a folder or something. Today I love the way you have woven the silence into the fog. And the old house, which stands solid, unlike toe fog. Brilliant!

LindaG said...

Very interesting poem, Gail. :-)
I always wish the walls and old buildings could talk.
Have a wonderful Sunday! ♥

Susan Kane said...

The mist changes it all--makes it go from quaint and remnants of the past, to spooky and forbidding.

DesertHen said...

I would be the one that would want to go explore that old house! Well done!

Sue said...

I'm glad you are doing more of these prompts again. I enjoy your work!

=)

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