This old house

This old house
The heart of the house
is so secretly sensitive as it listens to all the noise
from the children practising on the old piano with their banging, clattering toys
Thick coloured skin covers each and every wall tho this homely habitat still hears everything from one and all
Eyes are everywhere if one took the trouble to look as this cozy, comfortable crib shares life’s long book

With sturdy walls and a water-tight roof and chimney stacks so high
the old house coughs and splutters smokiness of spirals to the sky
This stronghold has stood a century or maybe’s several more welcoming and embracing strangers through it’s wooden front door
Floorboards creak, worried walls sigh
from bygone ghosts of by and by
They have graced it’s rooms in clusters and clumps heeding this house’s bellows and bumps

Windows within walls are this houses sheer delight trickling and seeping sunshine to savor it’s hearty appetite
Cobwebs collectively entangle betwixt and between
spaces within places where spiders are not seen
This old house has heard lots of laughter, alas also laments of woe
from families and friendship gatherings as the seasons come and go
The heart of this house wept buckets on those days of the dweller’s demises
It melted their memoirs throughout the bricks and mortar amidst it’s clandestine disguises