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I'm a rambling house, on the outskirts of a north African town.
1920's I saw lavish banquets and a woman dressed in a beautiful gown.
1940's saw WW2 and German Generals, in my ballroom using maps to fight allies they found.
I was starting to wear, but my fixtures were stout and my walls were still very sound.
My next occupier was an Englishman who cried from the horrors of war.
He loved my tower apartment, the new buildings surrounding me.
He occasionally looked up and saw.
It's 1970's and I'm somewhat decrepit.
I think I’ll be demolished by law.

6 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt 10 months ago

    You’re really on a roll with your poetry, Peter. Bravo!

  • avatar

    Peter Henderson 10 months ago

    Many thanks to you for support and everyone for votes. I like the category. It's quirky, a rarely used form on the site, makes me work hard at getting something that reads right and if I find a good subject even harder to make it poignant.

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt 10 months ago

    Well your enjoyment of the genre is obvious and you may find that it becomes infectious....

  • avatar

    Drew Martyn 10 months ago

    I'm with Neville on this, Peter, you're obviously enjoying this and it's coming through. They really are very good and terrifically enjoyable. Personally I'd like to see some more of the free verse poetry (as in "Dumb"), I think you may have a knack for that (I enjoyed it a lot, at least). Whatever, keep em coming mate!

  • avatar

    Peter Henderson 10 months ago

    Many thanks for the advice

  • avatar

    Mona 9 months ago

    This is very wow! Also very visual!

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