I am an old cottage
Shabby yet sturdy.
The sun beats down on my roof
Filling me with warmth.
The wind whispers secrets
That I brush away
With the pollen of my roses.
When the rain comes
The slate-grey shingles
Hold the water at bay.

Sometimes.

Drops splatter on my spotless wood floor
Refusing to cease.
Cracks show in my sand-colored ceiling
Growing wider
And wider.
One day, the spiderweb faults
Become one.
My world comes crashing down
Demolishing my heart
And the rain leaves
After fulfilling its wishes—
Destroying my small, beautiful
Piece of serenity.