The Old Rusty Gate

That old rusty gate, goes way back in time It's body of metal holds memories Through the hinges and spindles- Ivy climb Almost hidden from the thick leafy trees The gate still swings in the wind of a day Do the ghosts of the house; past- come and go If that old gate could talk, what would it say? In its squeaky voice- "I've seen the wind blow" It out-lived the house, still standing alone It holds memories of a hundred years Tulips of color and roses- once grown If the gate had eyes- it would shed some tears The gates still alive, though rust grasps its face Don't think, it ever, wants out of that place One In Five Poetry Contest Sponsor: Joseph May 7-2-2022