Just For You Poetry

A cricket trills
In the lonely garden
Where closed and curtained
Windows sleep.

It's song faintly quavers
Through the quiet house
And settles like dust
In shadowed corners.

As evening darkens,
Nothing stirs in the shrouded rooms...
Now that the owner has passed.

Unbelonged things wait
For reassignment
In the tomb-like stillness
Where he had lived.

And somewhere
Lost in the shadows
Between those listless walls,
A telescope sits...
Heavenless.

Out in the lonely garden,
The cricket sings again
And ungazed stars hang
Above the silent, silent house.

This is haunting and sad; the image you have painted is heartbreaking in the beautiful night sky waiting to be admired whilst the telescope waits unused and forgotten.
A wonderful descriptive poem Cindy, i can feel the lonely silence...

Thank you, Stella.