Storied
The house on the lake, awake, asleep,
Has legends to tell, and secrets, keep,
Of seasons fled and of lives gone by,
In whispers, hushed, like the distant cry
Of an owl that’s flown on her muffled wing—
The house on the lake holds everything
Behind closed shutters and boarded doors,
As tightly as novels protect their stores
Of stories—the ghosts of bygone make
The pages turn in the house on the lake.
I like it!
Sent from my iPad
Beautiful. xxx
Lovely, K! ♥
Fantabulous! Truly love this one! xx