From The Terrace Poem by mark nwagwu

White house
brown roof
windows with outsretched arms
speak to my eyes
urging acceptance

Walls lift roof to gray sky
breeze flowing through the columns
floor, not for walking
but for ascending
request my steps
to be uplifted

Arches curve upwards
and downwards
dancing like the waves
invite me to join
all is in place
all agog with excitement

My soul flutters
knees buckle
and answer no
to House built with greed
not sweat of labour

Here I stay
on the terrace
watching house
not Home
blocks and roof
not sweat and contentment