A tapestry of lace now shrouds
beneath a canopy of clouds
amidst loud laughter futures made
a place where children played.

A half door swinging in the breeze
raucous rooks in trembling trees
await the labourers return
potatoes, cabbage, butter churn.

No motor cars no patios
fancy clothes or panty hose
happiness was all around
people’s feet firm on the ground.

Jpoet7 ( @wordverse.me )

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