Author Information
House for Sale
They loved the house for it is where
Their every child was born,
And every child was born, they thought,
In the foretold Perfect Age.
But God controls his Perfect Age
And Man won't see it 'til the Final Day.
And their great joy was murdered when
The years of drought arrived.
Their trees have long been barren now,
Their fields are brown and seared
And Silence lays her quiet hand
On every silent room
Where little children played.
For one by one as they matured
They heard the siren song
Of greatness where the cities are.
And one by one each one in turn
Departed from the farm.
And in awhile
While from the walls
Portraits of the loved ones smiled,
The parents died.
The house, however, yet remains
And to this very day retains
A retinue of Spirits and Ghosts.
You'll not be lonely if you buy the house.
