This is one of my favorite things I have written. Wanted to reblog and share it again.


This house is old

It creaks and sings its song

Withered and wilting

Like roses of long past lovers

Echoes with the voices of ghosts

The breath of past dwellers

The wind moves and sways the trees

Their knock and scratch against the window panes

Reminder of their long lived lives

The history they have endured

The wonders beheld in their far reaching roots

Spreading out, a strong foundation

A vessel of memories

Deeper with every year of solitude

The tree a vivid reminder of what the house once was…



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