The New House

It was a little palace home
A place of rest and peace
A place in town and country
The best of both worlds to please

Beyond loomed Pendle reaching out
Inviting one to climb
Sometimes shrouded in a mist
Even in summertime

Every season changing views
Never a day the same
Colours variant all the time
As though it was all a game

At Halloween that ghostly time
When the moon is bright
We look for witches on their broom
And give ourselves a fright

Now content to greet each morn
Instead of feeling aall forlorn
We work each day from dawn to dusk
A second chance for both of us

1989 New Hall St.Burnley

Brenda S. Warhurst

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© 2006 Brenda S. Warhurst