The Bed Room Window.. Poem by Connetta Jean

As i sat in the darknss
of a house old and cold
i looked out a window
hearing stories once told..
though i was a stranger
never been there before..
the old house welcomed
me at her door.
to look through her windows
and listen to walls..
So i'll know the secrets
she holds when she falls...
I thought of the sound..
when the church bells rang
and the music that played
for hyms that they sang...
i walked up one stairway
and back down anouther..
and Pictured a child
hiding out from her Mother....
The Old house is dying
Soon she will fall
but i've captured the visions
of what her windows saw....