So many of my scrappy peeps know I've been working on a scrapbook with my historical home tour in Weatherford, TX. And some of you know I have a thing for historical homes and old fences. Garden gates, wrought iron... I've been searching for a quote or poem on fences and have found nothing to my liking, so I thought I'd give it a go. I haven't written creatively for ages, so I need some feedback and insight.... here it goes.
garden fences surround these homes
each as different as their owners
aged and worn, once straight and true
these fences lean and sag
once victorian garden lawns
now hidden in the foliage, wrought
iron fences heavy with honeysuckle,
a faded memory lost in time
imagination sees a yard rich in history,
stories unseen by public eye, children
hiding in the bushes, ladies strolling with
their babes, men sweating from their labors
all too common everyday living
what the neighbors are suppose to see,
but fences holding onto the past unknown,
the child crying hidden from his playmates,
the ladies ugly gossip as they stroll,
men moist with stench watching the women
from a voyeristic view
these old homes guarded by their fences
safely keeping old memories, ghosts of
days long past, yet you can still see
them hiding in the gloom of the briar
or feel the chill as you pass thru the
shadow of the oaks
beauty sitting on the surface,
smell the decay and mildew
guarded always by the fences,
viligint with each passing year
2 comments:
What a beautiful work! I loved it! I shall only propose one spelling correction - I believe that the last line of your poem should read "vigilant". Otherwise I would not change a word. You do great work - always!
I wish the blogger had spell check. Thanks for the feedback...after posting here, I kept playing with it and fiddling. You'll have to check out the finished page on Thursday.
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