The Old House Sighs

The old house sighs with every gust of wind, Its paint is peeling, memories exposed, A chapter closed, a story longs to end. The garden weeps where laughter used to blend, The path to the porch now overgrown and dozed, The old house sighs with every gust of wind. No welcoming lights the darkened windows lend, The silence there, a heavy weight composed, A chapter closed, a story longs to end. Each creaking floorboard, a forgotten friend, Whose familiar steps are now decomposed, The old house sighs with every gust of wind. The scent of lilac where the seasons send Their fragrant blooms, is now a lasting ghost, A chapter closed, a story longs to end. No loving hands its weary frame defend, Its once warm heart now chillingly reposed, The old house sighs with every gust of wind, A chapter closed, a story longs to end. ©bfa040525