Silently
With your death this old house mourns as decay smiles
Once a life of glamour held her room of pink brocade
Now ivy grows through broken hearts of girlhood wiles
To smother closet doors as weeping teardrops fade
Her chair empty, now torn and forlornly dwells alone
Lost memories hide behind desolate shoji screens
Softly spoken words silently die as if made of heavy stone
Teasing sweet perfume lingers in their muted screams
Written 9-3-2019
Free Verse or Rhyme Poetry Contest photo #3
Sponsor: Eve Roper
1st place
Copyright © Jeanne Mcgee | Year Posted 2019
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