by P.J.Reed
Detached, aloof in
Red bricked splendour,
Roof tiles sat in
Frowning rows and
Watched with stony stares.
The chimney pot
Refused to smoke.
In a haze of purple velour
Bay windows shut their eyes;
While greying garden statues
Slowly turned away.
Golden leaves floated,
Whispering softly to
A wandering, wintry breeze.
The white gate screamed
On bleeding hinges;
Moaning to the wind.
And the robin flew away
And I was left outside, alone,
The dog, my child
And me.
- Share this Poem:
ABOUT THE POET ~
P.J.Reed is a writer and dark romantic poet. She has been published in numerous anthologies and collections. She specialises in speculative fiction, writing mainly Dark Romantic and Gothic Horror poetry. Her work is featured in many anthologies and essay writing guides. Her first collection of work is entitled "The Wicked Come" and available from Amazon and all good bookshops.
Last updated April 30, 2015