Angie Sharp Poet Rhyme

While the Owner Is Away

Dishes lie in the kitchen sink,
just waiting to be washed.
While spiders scurry everywhere,
begging to be squashed.
Plants die from a lack of water,
after feeling the sun's harsh light.
Specks of dust come out of hiding
to butter the furniture at night.
The metal stomach of the mailbox
is stuffed with untouched mail.
And the only sound within the halls
is the phone's electronic wail.
The yard closes it's colorful eyes,
when the sun sends it's last ray.
The empty home slumbers
while the owner is away.

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