The Old Copper Pipe By Mai Venn Poem by Mai Murphy Venn

A disregarded piece of copper pipe laid on the ground.
The strong wind blew and as it did it made a soft sound.
Such a sad haunting melody that Induced floods of tears.
I recollect nights of prowling shadows imposing fears.
Then, as the gale arose, it blew the solitary pipe on its way.
As it went, I listened to the phantom tune that it did play.
At last, the sound began to mingle into the storms rage
Inside my four walls, I felt like a prisoner within a cage.
That old copper pipe was free but It was on its own.
So was I, I was confined, trapped but safe in my own home.
Next day the sun gleamed, it was so calm and so quiet
As I walked the lane my eyes strayed then glance at a sight
That old copper piped had found a far better home
It was embedded in mud with another and no longer alone