The Old House

The front porch with the covered swing
Brings you in the house, to the main hall.
Though it’s ornate and the ceiling’s tall
It’s more like the center of a ring.
The house surrounds it like a gold band.
You can follow the grain of the hardwood floors
Pass through many rooms and many doors,
Then you’ll return to where the front door stands.
Yet it’s also like a maze.
It’s overwhelming to discover each new room.
You may never return after finding the bedroom
And up the stairs your feet will follow your gaze.
Circling, rising, returning, the center of it all,
My desire for you is much like this hall.