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Old wounds time does mend,
Broken hearts of lovers.
Sharp words between good friends,
In saying I'm sorry,
A healing salve can cover.
But only blood of close knit kin,
Can bring a brother to forgive his brother.
Old houses speak
Dark secrets they leak
Storm weathered
Never settled
Full of cracks and creeks
Antique furniture exposed
Wear and tear from past souls
Resembled ghost in white sheets
Laughter and movement
Once known now abandoned
Vacant and alone
Years of neglect is all that’s shown
The occupancy of life long gone
Pane- less windows
Like eyeless souls
Let in only darkness dampness
Mildew and cold
A door once accustomed of permitting things in
Now warns to keep out
Refusing its hospitality to extend
By chance you pass one's way
Or turn there in
Its rickety corridors try not to disturb
Or its vestiges offend
For old houses are sensitive
To the vibes we send
Old houses speak
I remember when the circus first came to town,
The village people eagerly came to see from all around.
Every wild animal on wheels was caged in tow, followed by colorful clad characters on foot sure to give a spectacular show.
I remember when I first entered beneath the great big tent and caught the grand act of the peculiar pink elephant.
Get Your Peanuts, Popcorn, and Hot Dogs Here!  The Concessionaire yells in a hearty cheer.

The taste of cotton candy, the sounds, smells and the sights,
Above me a man balances on a tight rope from a view of an incredible height.
For the kids, clowns twist and shaped balloons in all odd kind of forms,
And stuffed themselves in a tiny car with a toot, toot of a funny sounding horn.
The feathered ladies on horseback perform daring acrobatic stunts, as in place the horses prance and dance in a parade of extraordinary pomp.
All eyes are on the lion tamer in his tails and fancy top hat twirling a chair and cracking a whip at the growl of the big man eating cat.
Tigers jumped through flaming hoops, as human cannonballs towards  the sky their bodies shoot.
Little doggies do flips for their treats as acrobats fly through the air performing death defying feats,
Or what could be more delightful to see than a bear riding a unicycle or perhaps even three?

Finally, comes the grand finale, then soon it is time to go home, the tents have been folded the rides have been loaded the performers and the animals have all gone.
On their parents strong shoulder kids are carried off in their sleep with sweet dreams of, fun rides and toy prizes, and candy apple treats.
Ferris wheels and merry go rounds, the bearded fat lady weighing a hundred pounds.
I remember a ******* a wire, the boy that spits fire a man with his head in the jaws of a tiger.
Reminiscing of the time when the circus first came to town
And the village people eagerly came to see from all around.
One star lit night I sat down to write, A Little short poem about dragons and kites
Though In nature they do differ still the similarities remain,
One’s found in a fairy tale adventure the other in a child's small hand to entertain.  
One has sharp teeth and a mouth that spits fire,
One holds a boys dream of a future aviator to inspire.
They both have long tails, though ones lined with ribbons the other lined with scales
And magic wings that lift them up higher over the highlands and vales
While catching a ride on the back of a strong wind gale
One lives in a cave and the other a toy box,
One sleeps on a rock and the other hangs from tree tops.
One’s tamed by the pull of a kite runner’s string,
The other steered by a dragon rider straddled between its wings.
One’s made from myth, legend, folklore and fear,
The other made from the design and blueprint of an inventor's mind's idea.
Ones made of sinews, muscles, flesh and bones,
The others made of a cross wooden stick frame over which cloth is stretched, and sewn.
Ones enchanted by wizards and knighted by kings,
The other’s to cheer up a child's heart and fulfill all his wishes and dreams.
And now out of my head my subjects take flight,
Now I do find there's no more to write,
Of the different and likes between dragons and kites.
In my youth
The mirror reflects
Years of regret
As a young man
I turn away from looking
To forget
Every angle of neglect
A lonely
Old man
Staring back at me
Shattered in many pieces
The truth

— The End —