White house <br />brown roof <br />windows with outsretched arms <br />speak to my eyes <br />urging acceptance <br /> <br />Walls lift roof to gray sky <br />breeze flowing through the columns <br />floor, not for walking <br />but for ascending <br />request my steps <br />to be uplifted <br /> <br />Arches curve upwards <br />and downwards <br />dancing like the waves <br />invite me to join <br />all is in place <br />all agog with excitement <br /> <br />My soul flutters <br />knees buckle <br />and answer no <br />to House built with greed <br />not sweat of labour <br /> <br />Here I stay <br />on the terrace <br />watching house <br />not Home <br />blocks and roof <br />not sweat and contentment<br /><br />mark nwagwu<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-the-terrace/
