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Wednesday, March 16, 2011


Peaceful and quiet,
we stand alone.
Shadows hinting at your
dark, dank walls, 
barren for years.
Tiny plants calling your
rotting windowsills home.
Admiring the beauty you
have gained over time. 
Adorned with delicate moss
spreading over your stones,
waiting  and wishing for
the warmth of spring. 
Glancing at your row of
windows, whispering 
with each gentle breeze.
Looking, pondering, wondering,
what were you before now?
Someone's home devoured
by flames, a stable for horses
long gone?
Some may call you old, even ugly,
I call you strong and beautiful.


  1. mmm....me too...i love old ruins and the stories that course through their veins...nice.

  2. I like to speculate and dream when I visit old historical places...

    an ordinary moment

  3. Thank you both very much!
    This piece was found near a old farm, thought it may be a stable..interesting to stand within and imagine.

  4. You could have chosen avenues with this text, but you kept it simple, yet elegant, which I appreciate. I find I'm a sucker for metaphors, but I always enjoy reading those that know how to describe realism.

  5. Appreciate the pondering, questioning aspect of the poem. Unique structures like that really are beautiful in an unpopular sense. That
    s probably what makes me like them more. Excellent work. I like the framing/composition of the photo too.

  6. The poem completely conveys the feelings. I liked it very much. Anything in this world has a silent story to tell any passerby. Everything has a voice of their own. Very true.