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NO WINDOWS ON MY HOUSE - by Claude Peter Dhuet

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NO WINDOWS ON MY HOUSE - by Claude Peter Dhuet

Postby Claude Peter Dhuet » Sat Apr 15, 2006 11:39 am

Claude Peter Dhuet

There are no windows on my house-
For me and myself to look out-
It keeps us secure from those outside-
Who roam and run about.

For within this house that’s made of stone-
No one can do us harm-
Or hurt our feelings or our self-
Or ever do us wrong.

No harsh words will we ever hear-
To fall upon our ears-
Those words that so very often-
To our eyes that bring on tears.

But then we often wonder-
What lies beyond our cloistered walls-
Does the sun really fall upon our shoulders-
And warm our hearts inside.

Is the smell of new blooming flowers-
As sweets as those outside say-
Is there really a soft breeze that blow-
Most of the livelong day.

Are there really friendly faces-
That smile as they pass by-
As we wander thither and yon-
Under that sky blue sky.

There is no way that you will know-
Unless you tear down those walls-
And build a new house with windows-
That are both large and small.

And wander out those cloistered walls-
And feel the sunshine on your face-
Smell the perfume of blooming flowers-
Be part of the human race.

For even when the harsh wind blows-
And the thunder rants on high -
The aftermath is always the same-
There’s a rainbow in the sky.

Claude Peter Dhuet
April 2006

Note: After accessing several websites, I found so many sad poems that I just had to write this one. Me and myself of course refers to me and my ego, that can be a considerable deterrent to a happy pursuit of life. You're bound to get hurt once in a while, but the way you bounce back determines what kind of material you are made of,
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Claude Peter Dhuet

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