On The House Poems - Poems about On The House

downcast, downtrodden, down-in-the-mouth house not perky enough for a raccoon or a mouse was passed over quickly by Lee Ann’s spouse Buying this monstrosity would make him a louse....

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the man set his own house on fire and looked at the animals who are running away he screamed at the trees for not taking the toll even though ht was the one who started the fire he blamed the clouds that won't rain for bringing his house down to ashes the man set his own house on fire allowed the invasion...

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the beach is public but the beach house is private when the sea erodes, which is saved; you can't save both saving houses erodes the beach...

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they race in and out chasing each other with gusto and vim oops spoke too soon two dog tails just ran back in one jumps on the couch, and the other is up there too they are pony dogs, one weighs 80, the other 122. They love us to bits, have no idea how strong they are One jumped to...

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Upon a grassy hill, so long ago, our lovely, old Victorian-style home was built in eighteen eighty-six, aglow with cozy rooms and firesides burning bright. So charming were the winding stairs that flared neath the cathedral ceiling's chandelier. Outdoors, a rolling lawn and gardens spread beside a stony brook that rambled on. A time I still remember- Christmas Day in nineteen fifty-three- age...

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Packing up house I do not like Much, rather fly a kite, Or go on a hike! We lived in our first home Almost forever, But in the last six years, The third and most traumatic Emotion in life, Was packing up and moving. It’s all about enduring! This home was where Our children grew up, Graduations, celebrations, Happy moments and sad Where our parents died, Where our hearts sadly...

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He knocked and asked for some bottles of water, he said that we both had the same Alma mater. While quenching his thirst, I was thinking the worst, did he buy next door, or was he a house squatter? ...

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I'm that house who has been on the block for years Who have seen many parties and lots of tears I'm hearing rumors that I might be put up for sell Different types of notices coming in through the mail If only I can make the decision or be given an option I don't want people fighting over me at...

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I'd been sleeping poorly what with my agonies needed an early morning nap but at a ratatatat on the front door I jerked awake and obediently open up, a respectable couple not this time trying to get me to switch my energy supplier or join the young communists but 'We're from The Sun' asking me if I had any thoughts on the...

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I carry a house upon my back, A fragile frame of dreams and stone. Its windows cracked, its timbers black, But still I walk, and still alone. Each wall is built from words unsaid, From nights I stitched with fraying thread. Its roof is shingled with the dread Of all the tears I never shed. I pass through valleys, rivers wide, This house sways...

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Outside the trees are called by the Autumn’s breeze. The door isn’t perfectly shut as the leaves seep through the uneven cracks. The whistling tune from Nature’s broken karaoke machine finds its way under the door. Slowly the shadows become dimmer as the morning sun sets in and the birds begin to chirp as the crickets causes a ruckus enough to wake the subconscious mind from sleeping internally. The...

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I dwelt within a house of shade, By silent hand and sorrow made. Each brick I laid with trembling care— Of shame, of guilt, of cold despair. No hearth did warm, no lamp did gleam, But dimness thick as haunted dream. No welcome waits behind the door, Only the hush of evermore. The days are long, yet never bright, And stretch like wounds into...

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The plumber is fixing a leak; The pipe’s needing more than a tweak. So for things to improve He will have to remove Some wood panels - I’m starting to freak. Our house, built in ‘80, is old And it’s paneled, which is, truth be told, Now considered passé But was cool in its day, Though with changing it, I’ve not...

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One, Two, Three, Four... Shadows crawl in hope of escape. Five, Six— Interrupting thoughts and fear demand attention. “Hello, I'm here.” The mind cowardly answers the call. Life unhinges — unlocking the greed of depression. The door opens, welcoming the darkness into the house with no lights. Allowing the destruction to flood centre stage. No spotlight needed. He's strong, surrounded by the blackness. He's seen. He's heard. He's felt— He's home. His...

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Things Missing Somewhere in This House My birth bertificate… A box of needed, new bank checks… Both of our wedding rings… My Waterman fountain pen… After 4 decades, at least 3 doz. of Jim’s odd socks & 2 doz. Of mine… 2 Roku remotes, 1 somewhere upstairs & 1 here downstairs… (Worrying) The hand-written letters I received from...

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