goodnight
old girl
goodnight, to you,
you
quiet house,
you
blessed home.
are you glad to see
another day done?
within yourself, your hidden recessed places,
are you sighing in relief as we settle safe in our beds.
your present loves,
all accounted for,
sleeping within your
teak and nail embrace.
or do you prefer,
the drumming of our feet, the hum of activity,
of when we are awake,
and bustling and bumping, about your frame?
or is it best,
when we leave you,
silent and alone
to contemplate,
in the sun and wind
on a work day?
my lord, the secrets
you must keep, the lifes,
that you have held close behind these old walls.
you must groan and cry,
with the weight of some memories,
yet, others cause
you to smile and sigh
in near-miss relief.
you have stood strong
and sturdy, for almost
one hundred years,
in one form or another,
your girth has expanded, with the growth of family, from farmer's cottage,
to three bed, with study
and nannexe, out the back. you have been all but knocked down, rebuilt, reworked and restored,
to former glory.
you have withstood,
the element's rage
and time's insipid attempts, to shift you,
from your place,
upon the cliffshead.
you have, and do,
do well, to hold us
all within.
and now, just,
before i sleep,
i want to thank you
old girl, for the way,
you keep us, warm,
protected and together.
glad to be back in the old homestead.... even as she cracks and creaks, complaining about the cold