This Old House

Boarded up and left alone

quietly sleeping on the hill

.drafty windows.

.weeping willow.

where I used to be

she’s not so sad to me, no.

she’s not so old to me

 

squeeking doors and scuffed up floors

tattered drapes

torn from their rods

songs and lies down every hall

but still there’s sweetness in this dust

Unfinished Song by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

More of Angie’s Poetry here:

https://theshowtellproject.wordpress.com/category/pieces-of-us/poetry/

My morning in Velvet

Emma and Josephine  are Young and in Love

As we sat on the bed

the silk kissing our limbs

the ceiling cracked open to let the light in

you smiled and I felt the warm wind on my nose

the  sheets and the walls fell away as we rose

floating higher and higher until we broke through

spinning and grinning, our spirits so new

soaring among those bright pieces of heaven

petting the velvety purple they rest in

Poem from unfinished play by Angie Hoover

I began writing  this one night while my fiance was asleep. The moonlight was shining in through our bedroom window, and I was overwhelmed with joy and love.  I revisited it several years later and planned to use it in a play that incorporated spoken word poetry. The plot focused on a lesbian romance between two southern women during the Jazz age.