The wooden door was always shut
the window blinds drawn.
The sun streamed down
on the orange bricks
on the blue-tiled roof
on the garden where wild things grew.
We played many games
in the tangled patch.
And the house stayed shut
the window blinds drawn.
Only once while looking
for a place to hide
through a cracked pane
I peeped inside.
An excellent poem that makes me think of childhood and the interesting places that I played. :)
ReplyDelete~Jess
http://thesecretdmsfilesoffairdaymorrow.blogspot.com/
Thank you, DMS! Our childhood memories are always cherished.
ReplyDeleteVery evocative of childhood days
ReplyDeleteexactly!
ReplyDeleteThe poem is beautiful...i am left with a question to ponder..I am wondering what you saw inside...
ReplyDelete