Adeeyoyo's Blog

I write what I feel…

The House on the Hill

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Post No. 894

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The House on the Hill

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It stared sightlessly at the valley below.

Blinds closed to the sun, the wind, the rain.

Frozen in pain, it stood silently waiting

While the wild flowers wilted, choked by weeds,

And the cobbled path limped to the door.

Home, I thought, and felt an answering echo

From the house on the hill.

.

©Denise G Allen, 06 November 2015 09:14

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Author: adeeyoyo

I am a middle-aged South African woman, living in Johannesburg. I began writing poetry towards the end of May 2010. I love animals – sometimes more than people!

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