Home Poem by P.D. Turner

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© Monday,06 October 2014

Iron web reaches the sky.
Spiders of men create within and high.
Of glass metal stone and ply.
Homes long in sight to buy.

Ladders ring to climb the rung.
Golden backs swirl in delightful flung.
Deposits fall on to agents tongue.
For a price war hung.

Bidding races the scene.
The price becomes obscene.
Thousands whiz the compute screen.
House hammer falls as lightning beam.