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TIME HERE STOOD STILL

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Oldest ever eighteen hundreds home
Lowest , largest chandelears~
Biggest oldest twin fire places wide
Darkest haunting shadows in long halls as dawn it nears~
Highest partched cielings and papered walls
Sunlight filtered through in morning rays that glow~
Worn out carpets thick yet still
Statues that looked as if they know~
Spider thickest webs that showed their age
Been a long time since being spun~
Their creepy owners now gone with time
A wall picture of old hunter and his gun~
A strange fragrance of stale rose perfume
Seems to drift right through this place~
Longest dining and kitchen tables showing wear
Still somewhat set out with long gone grace~
Chairs , calved and large and exotic
Stained candles in holders still~
Been ages since the day they were lit
Burn again Ifeel they never will~
A spooky vibe of past love ,lust and laughter
In all the grandest rooms that be~
Nothing has changed within these walls
All remains the same for all to see~
Not that a lot has entered these doors of late
The stories they are many~
Most would be of imaginative minds
For the truths I'd spend a penny~
Would not like to stay the night here again
As this old home talks and mumbles~
Even now with outside sunlight filtering through
The walls and floorboards grumbles~
Strange breezes seem to spring from nil
Down the hallways that lead north south , east and west~
Gives one a feeling of un welcomeness
This old home might not like company I do guess~
This old home remains as always was
Time here has stood still~
Seems to be protected by time itself
Looks within as if it always will~
Rays of light through coloured glass so
Largest ever panes of old~
Faded pictures on the walls
Of beautiful mistresses dressed to kill so bold~
One senses servants once here rushing around
Dressed in uniforms of the day and age~
The cold feeling that they might rush here still
Even though time itself here has turned yet another page~
Candle holders upon the walls still hold wax
The only light they had back then~
One can almost picture being in that time
As within it feels now as it would have done back when~
Bed warmers hanging in brackets made
And ancient furniture built to stay~
Worn curtains long and tattered now
Would have been so lovely in their day~
Rooms so many one loses count
Skirting boards two feet high~
Windows in the highest cielings show
Outside the bluest sky~
No more shall I visit here
To do so this time was a chance in one~
Never will I ever forget
How I appreciated the dawn and coming sun

Terrence Michael; Sutton
copyright 1989


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