Welcome Mat ~Poetry~2

The door was unlocked.
Doors are always unlocked, it seems.
But there is never a welcome mat.
I've noticed that.

Floorboards protest my entrance and shadows linger in every corner so that I have to walk with one hand dragging lightly against the walls, leaving trails in the collected dust, memories of different-if-not-better times.

Childlike, I dance through rooms
where night lights have been left
because curtains are never pulled aside.
The sun has no business here.

I peek and peer,
softly advancing deeper and deeper,
eyes wide.
I hear laughter and cries
and conversation
but every bed is empty.

And the sun is setting.

On my way to the door, I notice the shadows have gone, and the dust isn't as thick. And the floorboards are holding their tongues...

The door is open.
Doors are always open when it's time to leave.
But there's a new welcome mat.
I noticed that.

Krys! This is excellent. I don't really have much to say about it, but I really enjoyed reading it. You brought the whole thing together brilliantly in the last stanza. Well written, to put it lightly!

Ah Krys my lovely future wife. you weave yet another tale of loveliness that sure enough takes my breath away. Such vivid remarks and well placed words, it almost seemed as if this was a complete rhyming scheme but in all honesty i wouldn't read it another way.

well done honey.

PEACE!

Nikki