I knew this house for mine right from the first.
It had no air of tight-lipped cold reserve;
Instead of blank disdain, it was immersed
In kindness, breathing, “Here I stand to serve.”
Its roof line was a cheerful, light affair;
Its gables threw me slightly off the track
By nodding; and one window winked, I swear!
Some houses are the sort that give smiles back.
by Ray Romine Sunday, September 9, 1951
