Silent Sentinel

Poem about a majestic, run-down house in my hometown

Overrun with trailing vines,

The house stood, a poor comparison

To the glory it once held.

The love that had made it enchanting,

That made it endearingly beautiful,

Had faded like the morning mist.

It stood now, a sentinel through the years,

Forgotten and abandoned.

Left to be claimed by the land.

The building waits now,

For the day when someone realizes

That under the leaves stands a house.

It's watch is drawing to a close,

The years have taken their toll.

There's none left to mourn the faithful's end.

Reviews

[A.L.]

I love when people take seemingly mundane subjects, and made them enchanting. This is one of those cases. Thank you for the read!

[K]

Well, thank you. I didn't realize one might find it enchanting.

[A.L.]

Interpretation is always unique to the reader. That's why one poem isn't really one poem; its meaning varies.