Forgotten Years

A Poem By Bernadette // 11/5/2009


Dark windows;

Dusty panes

Creaking stairs,

Rusty doors.


Grey little light

And a silent old piano.

A broken stool,

Sadly there.


Her old glass mirror,

And pearl lined strings.

Yellowed and tarnished

All lonely now.


Hear the doorbell ring,

Shadowed footfalls.

Passed and gone words

Unused floors.


Fallen old beds,

Rotten old springs.

Smiling dolls

Waiting, waiting

For someone to come:




This was lovely, very quiet and soft.

Hannah W. | Mon, 11/09/2009


This was beautiful!!!

Elizabeth | Wed, 11/11/2009


The Holy Spirit is the quiet guest of our soul." -St. Augustine

Beautiful.  In a good way, it

Beautiful.  In a good way, it made me sad...

Clare Marie | Fri, 11/13/2009

"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve." -Bilbo Baggins [The Lord of the Rings]


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