The Dark Hall
The waves rippled gently against the soft shore,
by Rick Miser
trees whispered, caressed by halcyon breeze.
In comfort from sun and warmth, one begs for more,
to hold precious moments, those lost with such ease. The long-darkened hall lay still, the door creaked,
reluctantly opening to reveal as one peeked,
Once the site of many bright and gay celebrations
in response to happy and gay exaltations.
Now stands all dusty, cobwebbed and solemn
from once-shiny floors to the farthest high column. The touching of hearts, the sharing of souls,
an outpour of thoughts which but enrolls
One to follow another as spirits high soar
and reveal the key that unlocks that door. Now in that hall stands a lone taper
flickering, dancing, the flames as in caper
Revealing the glints and shadows through grime
of a grand place to be in a long-forgot time.
The soft gentle glow plants yet shows a seed
of faith, of hope, but yet shows a need
To welcome the visits no matter how fleeting.
Maybe again the hall will bright shine
from candles and mirrors and chandeliers fine,
All lit from one heart so gentle and sharing
with all live from me for your thoughtful caring