This house has many visitors who come to pretend,
to stumble through a new tongue
and try to feel comfortable about doing very little.
Undoubtedly there have been liaisons here,
spurious affairs and perhaps conception
and an end to matters too I think.
The landscape is wiry stubble,
the serene corduroy of vines
and the beautiful adolescence of sunflowers.
All watch the goings-on
with idle disdain in their broken tranquillity.
For her part, for the maison is definitely female
she holds all her visitors safely within sturdy walls
in non-judgemental sanctity,
a young capable chatelaine who has aged gracefully
to become a respected and much loved matriarch,
who still keeps secrets, mops tears and feeds her charges
Themselves still believing another life is possible.
© Graham Sherwood 8/2013
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