For Sale Poem by Mary Spain
For Sale
My home for fourteen years, but, in your eyes,
It's termed a saleable commodity.
Absurd to feel defensive, but it's me
You're wounding when you pause to criticise
A creaking door, or look with pained surprise
At peeling paint. Somehow I didn't see
Those grubby marks until you came; the tree
You call a hazard is a friend I prize.
I shall grow hardened to this new-found pain,
I shall show people round and gain the skill
Of placing potted plants to hide the stain
That time has wreaked upon the window-sill.
But, as a traitor, how can I explain
To bricks and mortar that I love it still?
An endearing tribute to a home which is surrounded by the house. As always Mary this is a little beauty.
I think it was Eliot who said that poetry is finding something to say about everyday things but saying it diffently and well. You have definitely acheived that with this piece. Reminding the reader of the value of a home which is not the same as the valuation of a house.
another good sonnet i relate to, mary. just this morning i was talking with my brother and sister-in-law as we were on a morning walk about all that goes into the upkeep of a house. -glen
'But, as a traitor, how can I explain To bricks and mortar that I love it still? ' Amazing poem 10++
hehe that is a reallly good poem i really enjoyed it awesome work
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/5/2025 12:17:29 AM # 1.0.0
wow! ! how much we get attached to our home every inch of it.....very nice