You look
Through the window of old
To find
Beauty unfold.
You listen
But the story is yet untold
Of how the beauty
Was preserved as gold.
You touch
The glass so cold
That hides the stories
Of the ancient and bold.
You smell
The musty hold
Of days gone by
And memories that can’t be sold.
copyright Robyn Graham
This is beautiful, it sums up the day I had moving some of my father’s furniture to an elderly couple still trying to live in their home.
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Thank you Kim. My thoughts are with you. I remember all too well how it feels to lose a parent…. And this was number two for you. Hugs and blessings. Robyn
Your beautiful poem fits so well with your lovely photo.
Thanks so much Susan! Appreciate the positive feedback. Blessings, Robyn
I like looking at this! Very interesting.
~Christy
Well thank you Christy! Glad you like it. Blessings, Robyn
Beautiful poem!!!
Thank you Rexlin. I hope you are having a fabulous week. Blessings, Robyn
Very lovely Robyn ~ both photo and poetry — you got a great tempo created here…. and so true – memories — priceless! Love to you ~ RL
Thank you dear Robyn. Hoping all is well with you and that you are having a very successful week. Blessings, Robyn
Lovely, Robyn…such a sense of fragility here…xomeryl
Thank you so much Meryl. Have a wonderful weekend. Hoping you aren’t snowed in! We only have about 5 inches. Just enough for the kids to enjoy it! Blessings, Robyn
That is the Fotografie I Like
Thank you very much. Blessings, Robyn