Abandoned, for far too long alone,
All she wants is for them to come home
And breathe life into her crumbling walls,
To reanimate these desolate halls
With the love and laughter they used to bring,
The childish songs they used to sing,
She longs for the joy she used to know
When they lived here, many years ago.
Light filters through windows by time obscured,
Revealing the grime of neglect endured:
Aged joints have seized, tired hinges moan,
Paths and gardens now overgrown
Impede her steps, uneven and frail,
That rise from the winding, weaving trail
Of stones that used to lead the way
From gate to hearth in happier days.
Weathered and wizened, her colours have greyed,
Remnants of grandeur now old and decayed.
Littered with years of collected debris,
And fallen leaves from the family tree
That gather in otherwise empty corners,
Ghastly reminders of life before her
Gradual surrender to aged decline
Ravaged by the ruthless, relentless time.
©2017 Joanne Van Leerdam.