The House

© Andrew Wyeth, Big room 1948

This house once had a large family
who worked, lived and played
in each room, knowing its every
nook and cranny.

In winter the big room held them all
fire blazing in its hearth
warming through to their chilled bones


that was then
the parents had now both passed
brothers and sisters want the house sold
so each can have their share of
the inheritance.

The old house sighs…
missing occupants
who listened to its moans and groans
but loved it anyway
and, patiently awaits new hearts
which will turn it once more
into a beloved home.


© Daydreamertoo      *All rights reserved

Shared with Magpie Tales #132 Art of Andrew Wyeth Big room
Poets United Pantry #112

Doing Time

Dusk played tricks, forming patterns
on the sterile walls
suddenly reminding of the
chain link fence outside.

It was just as well she didn’t
have her pencils or spray cans handy
recipe for disaster to a serial
graffiti artist
she couldn’t resist the urge
to trace her fingers
over those shadows before
they rose too high, beyond
her reach.

Allowed one call
the operator’s voice was dull
empty of emotion as she went
through the essentials to
make the connection.

Reverse charges accepted
she asked her mother if she
could be forgiven
would she please come
and get her out of jail.


© Daydreamertoo    *All rights reserved

*The wordle words seemed to fit this pic to a T. I’ve always thought that not even a prison cell can hold us if our minds are free. Saw that pic on a Facebook page last week and loved it for the same sentiment. True freedom is a state of mind.

Shared with The Sunday Whirl #71
The Poetry Pantry #112