Look Through Any Window

How well do you know your neighbours?

If you could look through any window

Of any house on any given street,

You might find yourself quite surprised

At the variety of people you would meet.

　

The couple at number twenty-three

Have been married nearly seven years

They are having another noisy row:

It will eventually end in tears.

　

The problem is, the whole street knows,

That he wants a family, she her career.

That relationship is heading just one way:

The divorce court beckons I fear.

　

Mr Bartholomew at number twenty-six

Nearly ninety years old if he’s a day.

He rarely gets out much any more

Since his wife sadly passed away.

　

He has a carer, a middle-aged woman

Who is bright and bubbly

But she cannot give Bartholomew what he needs most:

Love, affection and company.

　

The businessman at number twenty-two

Is obese and past his prime.

He spends his money and his lunch hour

Seeking a much happier time.

　

In the arms of a young prostitute;

Lissom, lithe and beautiful.

With her he’s a young stud again

Not a silly, overweight, deluded fool.

　

The big house on the corner

Is owned by a couple who are gay

They keep themselves to themselves

They rarely have much to say.

　

However if you met either of them

You might get a nice surprise.

They are just two happy-go-lucky men:

Just two ordinary pleasant young guys.

　

Unlike her at twenty-five,

We all know her disgusting game:

She calls herself Miss Emilia Court

But she goes by another name

　

‘Mistress Cruella �" Disciplinarian’

So her business card reads.

Apparently she takes care of

Perverted men’s sexual needs.

　

They parade in and out her door

All times of day and night.

The biggest surprise of all to me

Is that her house doesn’t boast a red light!

　

Barry Lane at number twenty-seven

Is home late again tonight.

His wife of fifteen long-suffering years

Can’t wait to put things right.

　

She knows what he’s up to,

He’s ‘played away’ before.

She’s had enough of being his doormat

She won’t take it anymore.

　

Her ultimatum will be non-negotiable:

The very final straw.

If he strays just one more time

She’ll finally show him the door.

　

In the small bedroom of number twenty

Tony Parker waits with anticipation

He’s got the house to himself for once

And he is waiting for his girlfriend Allison.

　

She promised that she will go ‘all the way’

It’ll be the first time for the teenage pair

Tony can barely catch his breath

As he waits for her there.

　

He is ready for this, he’s fully prepared

Condoms, flowers, a purloined bottle of wine.

At last! That gentle knock on the door.

Let’s wish them both a really good time.

　

The story could not be more different

For the couple at number twenty-eight

The spectre of impending death

Waits at the garden gate.

　

Cancer riddled and fading fast,

Ginette Masters is long past crying.

She has had over a year now

To get used to the idea of dying.

　

Her sadness is for her family

Her husband, daughter and son.

Who will take care of them

When she is finally gone?

　

Number twenty-nine holds many secrets

Of domestic violence and abuse

If you closely at Martine Jones’s make-up

She’s concealing yet another bruise.

　

The police are regular visitors

To the Jones’s front door

They have taken Rhys Jones away

Several time before.

　

But every time Martine lets him back home

After he promises he’ll change his ways.

I expect that there will be a murder enquiry

Conducted in that house one of these days.

　

By contrast Jim and Mabel Cousins

Have been married fifty years or more

They’ve lived every day of married life

At number twenty-four.

　

They brought up their family in that house

And the kids visit frequently,

With their own children in tow now:

That house is a happy place to be.

　

Number twenty-one is an enigma

At the moment it’s unoccupied.

Nobody seems able to settle there,

Though numerous folks have tried.

　

Couples, singles, young and older

Have all tried but not stayed long

The house looks perfectly ordinary

I wonder what could be wrong?

　

So, if you could look through any window

Of any house in the street where you reside

What secrets do you think would be uncovered?

More importantly, what secrets do YOU hide?

　

　

　

　

Reviews

[emmajoy]

What a fascinating and moving poem this is! You've created a true to life story within quite finely metered verse yet - in an unforced manner. That takes time and patience.

As to your characters and their lives.. what keen observations. Sad.. sad: . ' Cancer riddled and fading fast, ___ Ginette Masters is long past crying.___ She has had over a year now ___ To get used to the idea of dying.' How gently your penned that.

[authorised1960]

Thank you so much for your kind words. This poem was a pleasure to write as it 'played to my strengths' to a greater extent. I enjoy writing stuff that folks can relate-to. To do that the characters have to be real and believable - and be people that you'll 'know' in some way or other. I hope this is what comes across in the poem :-)

[emmajoy]

It certainly does. People-watching and-writing is what makes the literary world go around. Your descriptions and the thoughts behind them are both fascinating and touching.

[Karmee]

WOW! This is really deep as well as kind of thought provoking. Moving too. I enjoyed reading this,