High
upon the hilltop looking
down on scenes
below,
stands a house once
magniloquent
deemed
a mansion long ago.
Mighty
columns gleaming, silent sentries guarded what lay
beyond the doors. Layered and
laced in patticoats, not an ankle showing. Flirtatious ladies giggled
behind thier swiftly moving fans,
at the fine looking gentlemen in thier pantaloons. Thier hair as
white as angels wings
or newly
fallen snow, from all the powder thier shiny wig could hold. The
parties then were stupendous....
some
even quite pretentious in
the ostentatious
house, high
upon the hilltop looking down on scenes below.
Hanging now by
rusted nails busted shutters
bump,whenever
the north wind
blows. Broken
window panes,
brocade
drapes dangling can no longer conceal the inside of this
house abashed,
high upon the
hilltop
looking down on scenes
below.
