Play it Again Toads

Have you ever heard a house sigh?

like hissing dried pine cones in a woodstove

the snap n' crackle of old skeletal bones rocking

in staycation mode

do you smell  wintergreen dislocated joints 

the smoulder of orange coals with gray chalk

cracked fine china thoughts rise high as lost prayers

in swirling apple wood smoke

 their voices hover in the sizzle-snap

of old  knotted pine legs surrendering to the knock

 of tree pirates 

tap, tap, tap 

their red n' black faces searching

for scoundrel Peg-leg Pete

or is it a Hob Nob goblin tickling ivory keys

humming a salty ballad

No, it is I hammering an Underwood

clickety-clack as the carriage snaps back 

my  gray rose blooms, once more.

©Ellen Wilson 

My attempt at Kerry's prompt to write a Dylan Thomas poem.  I need to practice a bit more-but I had fun trying to attempt this challenge!

Thank you, Margaret and Kerry!! 

This poem is a lame attempt at the challenge Play it Again Toads #10,  over in the

Imaginary Garden!