Friday, 7 October 2011

The house is dying

Today we went to Harris
Donald* was from here
he died age 94
just 30 years ago

our destination
the house at number 2
four brothers started out
from here 100 years before

the house still stands
important home no more
ghostly residents today
only shadows stay

no soul has lived here
decades have rolled by
the paint has peeled
all glass now gone

some sheep just wander
near the walls
no-one knows
there is no voice

the roof falls in
this is the end
Donald never would believe
time’s  been overtaken

his house seems sad
its eyes don’t shine
the smiles have gone
laughter silenced too

this house is dying
all alone
it craves some love
there is no-one left to give

I cry big tears
for all that was
for Donald and the boys
 but memories will fade

*Donald was my husband’s grandfather

12 comments:

krouth said...

Wow. That was a very vivid picture of the old abandoned house. Too often we see these old, crumbling houses and forget that they used to be "homes".

Mitch Block said...

Very moving... Makes you want to save it.

the cuby poet said...

krouth:It made me feel so sad.

the cuby poet said...

Mitch Block: I'd be surprised if anyone does and we would love to but...........

The Barefoot Crofter said...

Hello - thank you for visitng. Sadly there are many houses like Donald's now. Your poem captured the feeling exactly.

Lady Mondegreen's Secret Garden said...

Very moving. How lives change. And houses crumble as Place ceases to meet a peoples' needs - or becomes unsafe. So many quite modern houses open to the elements and empty here after the quakes. Another hefty jolt this afternoon.
Thanks so much for visiting The Secret Garden.

the cuby poet said...

The Barefoot crofter:We have watched this house over the last 20+ years dying oh so slowly. I think it is the family connection which makes it more poignant and that Donald was a wonderful man. Thanks for your comment.

the cuby poet said...

Lady Mondegreen's Secret Garden:
Thanks for your comment, thought provoking in a different way relating to your situation in NZ.:)

upwoods said...

The life and smiling and love no longer in the house...yet, I am sure the house felt the love you have expressed in your poem. The ghosts are sitting there reading it, and laughing softly, creaking as they sit in long-forgotten chairs.

the cuby poet said...

upwoods:I wonder........

Doris said...

This poem describes the island so well. 'Donald's house is one of so many abandoned buildings left to die. It is an island tradition to leave the house in exactly the same way as the owner 'left' it. Donald's house will go the way of so many others.

the cuby poet said...

Doris: Hello and welcome.Donald was a fantastic old man when I knew him and he was also my husband's grandfather. The personal connection seems to make it all the more poignant.