Uncovering the secrets of an ancient hotel lobby, I take the reader through the lobby and paint a picture with words. The reader can use their own imagination to solve the rest.
Ancient white tile
laid out as a honeycomb,
with ebony accents,
across the wide expanse of lobby.
Your crown is a Persian carpet.
Age indeterminate.
Rusty red with navy and ecru flowers,
your tile is like a picture frame
that enhances the beauty of
this ancient rug.
Who knows, and who can tell,
how many individuals have trod your paths?
Their tales
and your tales
are remnants of the past.
But what of the present?
It is for you to know
and others to find out.
Your secrets lie hidden in the depths
of your labyrinth of honeycombs.
Speak to me not of your motives!
But tell me your tales!
For I look into your depths
and see the complications of lives.
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(c) 1999 Rosemary Winters Please respect the rights of the author and Passions in Poetry. If you would like to use this poem on your own web page, please contact the Author. Thank you.
