A Poet's Haven

Old homes are filled with memories and secretes.

In the middle of the night she would step around

the floor boards that squeaked.

And yet when she awakens in the morning,

knowing I am down the hall in my office.

She informs me that she is ready for her morning coffee,

and I will, mossy off to the kitchen to get us both a cup.

Two boards in the hall also squeak, I will step on one

on my way to the kitchen and the another on the way to the bedroom.

My better half will be standing in front of the one window

scantily dressed or wear nothing.

She will have counted my steps and know the moment

I will step through the door way.

She will rise upon the ball of her feet and squeeze

her lower cheeks sometime with a little shake or wiggle.

While she performs her own blend of aerobics mixed

with yoga and a splash of pilates.

I have of course nominated her for a countless number

of Oscars and Tony awards.

But then again our bed posts and frames have

written and performed many a capella’s over the years.

Memories of our love story kept secrete by this old house.
#love, #passion, #oldhomes