Behind Wrought Iron

The weed-choked path through oak forest ruled by elder branch and flowerLeads twisted souls past gate-kept lawn and rolling hill Lakeside dream resting gray and damp beneath iron peakCobbled drive welcoming none and all—come and do not stayHere I await gawking gaze and shrieking laughQuestions unanswered in this ageWhat strange…But why…Hear notes of bending melody… Continue reading Behind Wrought Iron