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A House I Once Knew
THERE are mars on the doors and walls.
Its rooms are empty and wide.
Here and there is a broken pane
Where the night wind creeps inside.
The front porch has fallen to ruin
With vines in possession there.
A shed is tumbled and strewn
And rubbish is everywhere.
Somehow it softens in moonlight
And my fancy wanders free.
That old house is more than a house.
It once was home to me.
I can see a place by the window
Where firelight once played inside.
I can picture the porch as it used to be
And grounds so clean and wide.
Doors with well-oiled hinges
Let in our willing feet,
With everything in place as it should
And everything trim and neat.
I see it in mellowed reflection
Until years have changed it to be
A house with a memory; it’s more than a house
It once was home to me.
I’d give so much to live again
In that house when it was young.
Then it knew our laughter and tears,
With its memory only begun.
I was unwise to have left it, I know.
All I got for my pains
Was a heap of things I thought worthwhile
And desire to be back again.
It might be made home again, who knows?
I watch the moonlight slant through a tree,
And know that old house was more than a house.
It once was home to me.
Leo VanMeer, © 2002
Metamorphosis
It rained all day.
It really poured down
To flood the fields
And woods and town.
It made the landscape
All dark and damp
To bring on many
A cold and cramp.
But all storms cease,
So this one did.
Along towards evening
Storm clouds hid.
Then through the night
All nature works
To straighten out
The little quirks.
It was bright next morning
And much the same
As if there hadn’t
Been a rain.
Leo VanMeer, © 2002
Soil
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There’s something in a furrow’s length,
A smell of earth that gives us strength.
Many look for other things
But something in the soil still clings
To dreams and unexpressed desires.
There’s a pleasantness like autumn fires.
Life may be mixed with tears and mirth
But it’s seasoned with the soil of earth.
Leo VanMeer, © 2002