Edna lived with three cats and four dogs
In hovel that would disgust rats
Both her children moved away forty years ago
They did not visit; glad to escape a hoarder house.
She and her pets lived among piles upon piles of junk.
Their paths uneven, on cracker boxes and caps of milk jugs.
They gingerly walked over the rubble to get to their cozy corners.
Edna had a tv, at the end of one of the alleys, across from a couch.
She and the dogs sat on the couch; the cats sat everywhere else.
Edna had stopped throwing away trash years ago, adding it to her piles.
The smell of this home would be unbearable to most.
To her and her pets, it was the scent of home.
They were comfortable here.
Categories:
hovel, life,
Form: Free verse
it is my hovel
I have a shovel
but will not use it
for this is my fit
your opinions are great
but you arrived much too late
This is my home
And I have some of my own
Categories:
hovel, how i feel,
Form: Jueju
I stumbled on a hovel in the woods
Dug in a foothill roofed with mossy shakes.
Inside, its furthest wall was made of stones
Piled high to make a chimney and a hearth.
Two stovepipes served as draft to bring in air.
No window spent what little warmth there was.
Who built this cell and for what purpose built?
If navvies built some shelter from the cold,
Then why not near to any railroad tracks?
A two day hike from any farm or town,
It made too far a lovers’ rendezvous.
Was it to help someone who’s lost survive?
Unlikely as it was, it might have been,
But only those who know to look can see
So meadowed as it is in growth and slope.
Opposing thumbs can easily unlatch
Its door inviting all who enter in
And equal welcomes guest or ghost alike.
Categories:
hovel, analogy, loneliness,
Form: Blank verse
I like the night because it’s time for sleep
The quiet time when work is done for day
At night my small hovel will safely keep
Me free from some rain that might wet me through.
It is not much of a place I might say
Tis a blessing there is no rent past due
My mind is at ease this night on that score
Tomorrow’s another day come what may
Care I not a fig for what is in store
Categories:
hovel, night,
Form: Rhyme
the grainy half dusk
when the sun gives her last wink
hours spent in thought
to leave the safe sanctity
this lonely little hovel
Categories:
hovel, life, nature, peace, places,
Form: Tanka