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ePoems : Dalu

Dalu was a distinguished teacher in London until serious health problems forced her early retirement. Following a tentative recovery she eventually took up creative writing, excelling in poetry. Her poems deal mostly with transience and loss without overt sentimentality and have won informal critical acclaim for their simple poignancy and Proustian intensity. The following poem has not been published online before.


                                    The Old House


The old house stands in the dark
All cold and empty inside
It awaits the final verdict
Stripped of its glory and pride.

The bricks can not shed tears
The walls can not speak
The floors are stunned with silence
The house feels lonely and bleak.

It seems not so long ago when
They all came to stay
The house was filled with hope and joy
When they'd laugh chatter and play.

The master - he was gentle and humble
He held the house in high esteem
He nurtured and humoured the old house
That felt loved'n alive within.

The mistress - she was larger than life
She treated the house with much respect
She adored and worshipped the old house
She thought it to be a divine gift.

The house remained a silent witness
When the loved ones went one by one
With muted fury and unspoken wrath
The house mourned - helpless, forlorn.

Providing shelter was her only aim
She tried, she tried in vain
Her rickety frame refused to oblige
Beaten and trodden by floods and rain.

The house - a broken spirit looks back
Thinking "I must move on, I must"
The cruel wind howls and whispers
"You live with the ghosts of the past".

                                                       - Dalu  December 2007.


The above is part of an occassional posting of original poems by Dalu or other poets.
More to  follow.

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