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
Copyright © Charles Messina | Year Posted 2022
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