The Window Seat - Both Audio and Text - W-Illustration

While flying through a cloudy sky, a blank and thoughtless glance Exposed to me this big old house, so brief, and quite by chance. I’d seen enough to know that it was large, and very grand, A place that I would love to see. I couldn’t wait to land. I hailed a cab and told the guy (you should have seen his face), “Hey, just before we landed, I could see this awesome place. A big old antique mansion. I am sure it can’t be far.” He smiled and said, “I think that you’d be wise to rent a car. “It’s really quite a palace, though she looks a little tough. You saw, ‘The Painted Lady.’ She’s a diamond…in the rough. They say she’s been abandoned, and they say there are no more.” Then leaning through the window, as I closed the taxi door, He told me how to get there, then he bid me, “Best of luck.” I thanked him for the info, and I made him take a buck. My conference was tomorrow, so the time to go was now. I’d rent some wheels to get there…feeling sure that I knew how. I felt that I just had to go - my mind was racing fast, And my destiny was just about to link me to the past. Lurking deep within the trees, I might have driven by, But tiny twinklings slipped into the corner of my eye, And like a guiding star, her sparkling panes of beveled glass Would draw my eyes to what the average passer-by would pass. At last the woods were broken by a massive iron gate. It stood ajar…I parked the car…and headed toward my fate! I walked through nearly ninety feet of old protective trees Before, at last, I stepped into a world one rarely sees. There she stood, surrounded by great walls of oak and pine, And instantly I felt the urge to somehow make her mine. I stood and scanned the carvings ‘round her massive paneled door. I knew, behind her stained glass windows, there was so much more. This was what for many years my throbbing heart had yearned, And so I checked the knob, and, yes…to my delight…it turned! I was not prepared for what I found within those walls. Paintings, clad with gilded frames, still lined the stately halls. Deep within the foyer stood a pair of figural lights Perched on matching newel posts. The staircase rose three flights. With stained-glass transoms hovering over giant pocket-doors That smoothly slid to introduce exquisite parquet floors, I strolled into the parlor…what a sofa…what a chair. The scent of a candle…freshly doused…still seemed to fill the air. Curved-glass beveled windows softly ‘round her stunning “window seat”, Adorned with tufted cushions, made the gorgeous room complete. The portraits were spectacular, as were the - mechanical clocks. An ornate table - marble topped - displayed a music box. Coffered ceilings, marble hearths, and all the hardware…brass. The gilded chandeliers were huge…some kerosene, some gas. The papered walls were elegant, the tapestries were bold. The casing ‘round the windows brightly trimmed in brilliant gold. The ceilings had to be twelve feet, with murals still so clear. The velvet drapes, so lustrous. Hmmm…could someone still be here? The organ wasn’t dusty! I could almost hear it play. Despite the tale the cabbie told, it seemed like…yet today, There was somebody living here…and that would make me sick. When suddenly, I heard a noise that sounded like - a “tick.” Followed by consecutive “ticks”…each followed by - a “tock.” Could, dear God…there somehow be…an actual running clock? I’d hoped the smell of candles freshly doused was in my mind, And prayed the ticking must have been just creaking of some kind, But when the organ’s pedals started pumping…by themselves… And I was serenaded, as the candles on the shelves, And all the lamps and chandeliers began to light and burn…. Whether it was occupied or not…I will never learn. I left my “dream house” rather fast. I didn’t close the door. I won’t be back to visit….and will dream of one no more. I’m even thinking…when I fly…what used to seem a treat… Today has no appeal…and you can have that - “window seat!” (1978) PS: I've now got 4 new CDs - @ 4 1/2 hours each = (62 diversely varied poems), listed on EBAY - under - “Mark Stellinga Poetry” - should those of you who travel care to be so entertained. (We use PayPal) Cheers, Mark