08/22/07

  Beaufort-The Town
 

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Porches
by Marjorie Ost

They grace and adorn

The front of many homes

Suggesting, quietly

Without fanfare or fuss

“Come and sit a spell.”

If they could speak

What secrets would they reveal?

Rocking chair gossips,

Secret rendezvous or

Lovers quarrels?

They address you...proudly

As you walk by

Often in need of repair

Or a touch up...or two

“Please, see my spindles and stair.”

Shadows dance and play

With the vantage points

Adding mystery and wonder.

Ah, yes,

Porches, share dreams

And a hope for a better tomorrow...

~~

Written especially for my dear friend 

Mary Warshaw 

With love and best wishes, 

Midge

11 August, 2005

The Old Homes of Beaufort
by Carol Bessent Hayman

Old houses with high peaked roofs,
balconied porches, banistered stairs and fences
seem alive
as if they are the enduring defenses
of this town with the sea at its door,
the wind in its face
and a past filled with mystery and magic.

They sit quietly confident,
white or blue or gray
in blocks laid out by ghosts.
One can imagine children who played,
lovers who wandered
beneath century-old oaks on neat green lawns.
At night, they wear mantles of clouds and moonlight.
By day, staid and proper,
they take sunlight or rain with equal grace.

Each has a personality,
individual, unique.
The strong lines and gentle curves
of their sturdy posts and tall slender columns
send messages:
We are heritage.
We survive.