Skirting the pretentious fronts
Of mansions in a stately row,
Displaying closely shuttered eyes
That bid me 'do not enter here',
I find, at last, a lonely house,
Sitting quiet in the dark,
Shabby, yes, and very small,
But with uncurtained windows lit
To guide me in
And welcome. 


  1. Your poetry astounds me. Probably because I am not poet at all, I am mystified by others' gifts. And I love the whole idea behind this one.

    1. I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I must say, your prose has a very similar effect on me, so I think we're even.


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