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The Lonely Old Cottage
A cold crisp chill from the moor
blows in through the cottage door
shaking the old wood, stirring floor
where boards are loose once more.
Withered hands reach for the latch
she's baking cookies, a fresher batch
and she wonders about the thatch
barely holding on in that one patch.
Her husband gone she is all alone
mends what she can on her own
but casting a weary eye on her home
knows like her it's tired to the bone.
Still the greenest twinkle in her eye
but her happy youth passed her by
now each day brings a heavier sigh
resigned that here forgotten she'll die.
Silver wisps of once golden strands
fall on hunched shoulders, shaky stands
these used to be such dexterous hands
echoes of her past are like iron brands.
Over those moors she once ran free
picking heather, a child in her memory
so joyous and loved by parents happily
in this same cottage, ancient history.
The ghosts of happier times drift in
the cold air a shock to sagging skin
baking for guests who've never been
closes the rickety door, remains unseen.
© .Garry Saunders
blows in through the cottage door
shaking the old wood, stirring floor
where boards are loose once more.
Withered hands reach for the latch
she's baking cookies, a fresher batch
and she wonders about the thatch
barely holding on in that one patch.
Her husband gone she is all alone
mends what she can on her own
but casting a weary eye on her home
knows like her it's tired to the bone.
Still the greenest twinkle in her eye
but her happy youth passed her by
now each day brings a heavier sigh
resigned that here forgotten she'll die.
Silver wisps of once golden strands
fall on hunched shoulders, shaky stands
these used to be such dexterous hands
echoes of her past are like iron brands.
Over those moors she once ran free
picking heather, a child in her memory
so joyous and loved by parents happily
in this same cottage, ancient history.
The ghosts of happier times drift in
the cold air a shock to sagging skin
baking for guests who've never been
closes the rickety door, remains unseen.
© .Garry Saunders
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