Friday, April 12, 2013

The Door

The door seems to say
Begging to be looked at
and yet, be looked past
Flaunting its cheeky hue,
though closed, boasts openly

Don’t dwell on my stoop
The door seems to sway
For you see, those lines
my doorstep betrays
are life’s happy tears
worn proudly, by the way

Never mind my stains
The door humbly conveys
Such beautiful luster
from my dutiful hinges
tells of years of service
keeping me in practice

Oh, forget about my sag!
The door casually bids
For they’ve loosened up
-swung open many a day
to hug those bringing joy
my grateful home’s way

Written for Every Day Poems for their "Image-ine" poetry prompt based on "Purple Door" photo by Patrick Feller, Creative commons, via Flickr
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