The trees hid the house from curious passers-by,
For branches had grown thick o’er the years,
Contentment that permeated inside the walls, high,
Was now shattered by dissolution and tears.
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Oh how well put Ernestine. The last two lines are utterly grabbing, a message in themselves. t x
Ernestine how very well put. Little secrets we would like to forget come back to haunt us if someone wants to dig deep into our past. One day someone will dig something up on the diggers and the shoe will be on the other foot. Great write my friend. Top marks from me and thanks for sharing it my friend. David
A slice of life painted with the vivid words of Ernestine. Privacy is a realm of 'tears' and 'fears' and how little of it we possess nowadays. Susie xx.