The following sonnet was a gift from Zeke, rediscovered in the walls of our kitchen as it was demolished. We’re finally starting back up on our remodeling. Three exterior walls and two interior ones framed. Roof has new, strong rafters. This sonnet makes my eyes leak… Thanks Zeke!
Good house, to me you were but a device
To keep the rain outside, a shelter where
I could change clothes unseen, dodge winter’s ice
And sometimes hang the hat I seldom wear
And also harbor bugs and molds and mice
Pyromaniac wiring and shortcuts rash
Remodelings whose lack we could not bear
A bottomless pit wherein to throw our cash
But living there with love, as love doth grow
Our house and home, thou growest too on me
We shape thee to our ends, and come to know
A good part of our lives are shaped to thee
I did not know before that builder’s art
Could really make a dwelling for the heart.
June 17, 2003