Era of Victoria

A smaller place, a vintage home

Her fascia showing age

Designed after her mother

Feminine, eaves braced

Foundation, brick, for strength to bear

All the weight; her structure

Along her roofline, rain gutters

For tears of joy and laughter

All-weather, lifetime coating

To brave the elements

Siding dates her ’mong the rest

And her gabled vent

A vent that’s there to circulate

The attic air, but more

In case her fire spreads atop

Burning, uncontrolled

Her steps lead up toward her porch

Wooden, with a swing

Just steps away from her front door

Closed, yet still inviting

Inside, her ceiling, crafted

Intricate with time

In extra steps of detail

Fancy cornice mold design

Center, sits tiled hearth and stove

Her warmth; kindled and burning

Her guests enter from winter’s chill

To find it welcoming

Her family room for gathering

Informal, leading toward

Her kitchen’s open living space

Sharing of her love

And rooms, several, of smaller size

Suiting each, her dear ones

Larger, though, the master

Where she rests, undone

Not everyone is welcome there

The room set furthest back

The antique door kept closed the most

Where wooden floor meets tack

Her windows, French and double-pane

To keep world’s cold air out

With shutters, screens, crank openings

To let her warmth about

Marbled are her window sills

For function and for taste

Preserving of her fragile frame

Careful care ’did take

When craftsman in her mother’s womb

Did measure, build, create

Inside, outside - plans drawn up

A house, by love, was made