She noticed it for the first time
whilst walking her dog.
The mist rolled around
surrounding it – yet
at that precise moment
she fell in love!
Where was that magnet?
Somewhere it lay hidden from view.
It stood forlorn,
no windows, no doors -
just an empty shell on the moors!
She felt compelled to enter,
it was full of emptiness
yet, she wanted to make it her home.
She meandered from room to room,
sunlight flowed in the gloom.
Cobwebs hung – spiders -
the only sign of life.
She saw it inhabited – full of warmth...
...her dream was to make it her home
Beth Winchcombe is now a retired housewife and enjoys writing poetry, also painting in oils. She lives in Derbyshire, England.