I used to pass it on my way to school, <br />an eerie place with a tumbled-down fence <br />and gates that groaned on windy days. <br /> <br />Around its terraces gargoyles leered <br />at passers-by in stoney silence. <br />Ivy wrapped the house in a green cocoon <br />and the curtains were always drawn. <br /> <br />A crone lived there they said - died long ago, <br />but I'll swear I saw her framed by a window <br />dressed in crinoline and lace. <br /> <br />A Gainsborough lady of such exquisite beauty <br />she took my breath away. <br />Such are the fantasies of an adolescent boy <br />on the threshold of pubescence.<br /><br />jerry hughes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bleak-house/
