Mansions of Life
By Brendan Flanagan

This poem is based on a dream I had, where all the homes I ever lived in became one, mansion.
The photo was taken at Highfield Hall in Falmouth, MA.
Copyright © 2018 by Brendan Flanagan
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I have lived in many mansions in life
But only one ever inspired me to write a poem
One which was built on a foundation of words
On which there stood a home –

A home that rose, a monumental three stories high
With just as many wonderful, if not more, gables wide
With Victorian era artifacts in Queen Anne rooms
In which many a generation lived and died –

In one room, I witnessed my family at Christmas
While peaking out from behind the parlor door
And through the pantry I found another family
That lived there a hundred and fifty years before –

In another room I came into contact
With a whole slew of strange and shadowy hosts
Some were very cordial, some were pleasantly polite
But others were downright spooky ghosts –

But as I wound my way up the back spiral stairs
Around and around to the second floor
Searching, searching for something, a passage
A portal, an opening to another door –

A door that spoke to me from down a long hall
And creaked open as if to welcome me home
A hall that seemed to go on forever and ever
As if I were passing through the Vatican of Rome -

And alas upon entering the room
In addition, to my amazement, that is my unearthly delight
I found the first stanzas to this very poem and so…
The last of which I so vehemently began to write -

I have lived in many beautiful mansions in life
But very few could I ever call my true home
But one which was built on a foundation of words
In this living, breathing, mansion of a poem.