The Manor
Five chimney pots standing proud
on victorian tiles and darkened
shroud of stone, it stands alone.
Bleak and raven tarnish grown
in age and time, its beauty faded,
stout yet jaded.
Resolute, it does remain a formidable and
gloomy garnished stain
on an urban nest of semi chain.
How neglected you have been
when once a queen!
Standing in your kingdom green.
Guarded by trees and nectar,
blossom breeze through high grass
and the silent murmur of summer sneeze.
Respected, calm and free.
I see and etch your memory made.
Whilst others simply fade away.
Copyright © Jennie Cooper | Year Posted 2020
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