Friday, April 18, 2008

Unfulfilled Dreams

Leaning and longing a weathered shack weeps
though dreams remain dreams of youthful days past.
Each grinding hour leaves her weaker than last,
starving her hopes and the vigil she keeps.

A blistering gale over yon hill sweeps
delivering death with one fateful blast.
Worries as black as the shadow she cast
cascade from her soul, now gently she sleeps

If only they knew the breathtaking view
she wouldn’t have spent these days all alone.
Imprisoned by dreams that never came true;
yet nature has freed her spirit to roam.
Perhaps it is best her anguish is through;
predestined to be, a house not a home.


paisley said...

what is it about greed that will allow a perfectly good house go unused unloved uncared for??? i have never understood....

Dan said...

Good question. I'm doing my part. I live in a 100+ yr old farm house my wife grew up in; remodeling one room at a time. This old home has more character than I can stand at times, but no one can say it's a cookie-cutter home.

Stacey said...

Hi Dan
Old houses intrigue me, it is such a shame that they are left to JUST become houses not homes!

Jo Janoski said...

Another antique house-lover here. I swear the walls exhale stories...that doesn't sound good, but I mean well.