This House

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LutherSeahand's picture
Joined: 2013/01/06

             This House


Clouds are weeping at my door,

puddles tearfully trickle in

moonlight falls, whisper thin.


Shingles chatter on the roof,

winter sends her lonely kiss

restless winds, a soulful hiss.


Tousled twigs caress the windows,

shattered leaves sorrow down

willows writhe, orchids frown.


Shutters sigh outside these walls,

thunder moans in evening gloom

wilted love, she cannot bloom.