The Little House 1

The Little House 1

The house stood beyond an avenue of lime trees

Atop a small hill that overlooked a sleepy village

The storm of years gone by had taken a toll

Windows were broken and the roof leaking

Paint was flaking and mortar needed repointing

The owners had withdrawn to occupy a few rooms

Where the West wing showed signs of repair

After their passing away the house might have fallen

There were no heirs and so much work needed

There appeared a FOR SALE sign on the avenue

To the villagers surprise the property soon sold

Fears then grew about the future of the hall

Rumours spread about building a housing estate

What might be the effect upon a sleepy village

Heavy trucks rolling through the narrow roads

Suddenly scaffolding began to appear on the house

The rumours subsided but the curiosity grew

A care home perhaps or the home of a rock star

Inside new owners were going from room to room

Where wallpaper was peeling lights vandalised

Discarded needles and syringes in a bedroom

Yet so much of the structure remained intact

The furniture had been sold to cover debt

They wondered what the hall had looked like

In all of the grandeur at the height of fame

When all those around knew the family name

Horse-drawn carriages clattering along the avenue

Each hall that they viewed seemed unique

They searched past records but this hall was old

Built years before photography was invented

How could they restore this hall to its prime

They nearly gave up but then by chance

The key to the success of their project was found

Deep below the house in storage underground

The old house still held some secrets of its past

But this finding left the new owners aghast

Copyright: David Hopcroft August 2025

The Top Corridor

The top corridor

The bedrooms for family and guests were here

When the house had been home to the wealthy

Now the grand mansion was in decline

A widow and four children lived in the west wing

Far away from the corridor on the top floor

Which became the play area for the young minds

Whose adventures had left traces on the scene

Linen chests raided as they dressed as ghosts

Friends from the village would creep up back stairs

Past the servants’ quarters long since abandoned

To the top corridor with its long red carpet

At one end there appeared the fading wicket

Chalked upon the plaster that was crumbling away

A tennis ball and a bat discarded on a chair

Here young Humphrey had made a century not out

If the ball hit the wall it counted for four

The threadbare carpet ran from end to end

Where Alice and Sue had raced with their trikes

The State Room with its great bed piled with clothes

They played kings and queens in make-believe robes

Knotted sheets hung down from the four-poster

Where pirates had swung from their ship

Plastic cutlasses held between their teeth

Battles had been fought from room to room

A broken rocking horse stood by a door

On which Herbert had won at Royal Ascot twice

There had been life on this corridor in those days

With laughter and giggles and shouts of joy

Now all that remained for visitors to see

As they walk the corridor with a guide

Wondering why it had been left in such a mess

Were memories of Humphrey Herbert Alice and Sue

Copyright: David Hopcroft August 2025