Sweetest Balm Poem by Ernestine Northover

Its red bricks appeared mellow in the sun,
as day was done.
Ivy climbing up the high gable side,
clung on with pride.
Grey slate roof shone silver, splashed by the rain,
now on the wane.
Peaceful spot to end the long toiling hours,
washed by showers.
One golden sunset is claiming the scene,
all’s freshly clean.
A welcome back, a fine uplifting sight,
when falls the night.
This perfect setting is all quiet and calm,
Oh, sweetest balm.
My house a perfect haven just for me,
great place to be.


© Ernestine Northover