Saturday, January 24, 2015


 By Beatrice M. Hanson

What was left of the old farmhouse
 lay in ruins, in the quiet tranquility
 of a mid-summer country-side.
Forgotten, abandoned, it was left
 to defy the elements.
The structure withstood for many
 seasons the onslaught of rainfalls
 like scalding tears that washed and
 rewashed the streaked clapboards.
It had endured the hot summer
 suns kisses on its tar roof.
The winter winds played tag around its corners,
 tugging again and again at their support.

Termites nibbled on the rotting wood,
 contributing to their decay.

Vandals broke the window panes.
Destroyed or carted away
 what furniture they found.
What was left was a shell,
 with No apparent owner.

As years passed, all left visible,
 was the sloping roof boards,

 topped by a still staunch grey cement chimney,
 which rose above the rambles, like a watchful guardian.

When the winter snows melted the warm sun
 and soft rain blessed the lands with their gifts.

Seeds so encouraged, began their life cycle.
Tall grass mixed in with woodlands growth of
 Queen Ann’s lace, Buttercups, and other wild species.
Black-Berry Vines twisting in circles
 imprisoned all within its circumference.

The long neglected rose bush felt the urge to
 spread out its thorny limbs,to clutch at the
 sagging porch rails for support.

When reaching its goal, clusters of red roses
 budded and bloomed,

 leaving their fragrant heads against the roof
 in sweet repose.

The stately Hollyhock, seeds scattered from previous growth,
 searched forward, like tired soldiers
 who could travel no further.

Two lonely sunflowers sprang up to reach a height,
 Then to poke their fringed yellow
 heads into a painless window, as
 tho in curiosity as to its interior.

Spiders began their web
 weaving from one corner to another
 resembling in the strong sunlight
 a long string of tiny beads.

Unpruned lilac bushes their sweet scented
 flowers gone to seed,

 spread their green growth in ever
 widening circles against the fallen-in walls.
Buzzing bees broke the silence
 while birds sang, soft and shrill.

The lush of full summer fell
 upon the old place, and gave it charm!