Oh how the winds of time have worn this house,
Sweeping away the vibrance that once surrounded it,
Leaving empty chairs at our table,
Gone,
In an instant ;
The wooden ladle,
Still in the dish,
Still warm,
After the commotion,
The constant locomotion,
The dust has settled,
And time grinds to a halt,
Oh, what great treasures are woven into these walls,
Every scratch, every crack,
A story,
Oh great house,
Oh great kingdom upon a time
Once ;
A sea,
Where the gulls call legends above,
In the open firmament of our memories,
Ascending,
And returning,
Dodging the salty spray:
Decay,
Held aloft by the winds of recollection,
An ever present mental convection,
A watched pot that never boils,
A memory that never fades...