FOR SALE – AS IS
“For Sale – As Is,” read the realtor’s ad,
Beautiful Home, Magnificent View,
Private and Secluded!”
With interest, I approached the house,
Neglected, of course, and run-down,
Cobwebs and spiders, mouse tracks and mice,
And layers of dust all around.
The realtor said she was ‘sorry,’
She had not seen this place before,
Her orders had come in the mail,
“Sell the house – as is” … nothing more.
Distaste for the place showed on her face,
But I smiled and said, “I’ve seen worse,”
“Well, I haven’t,” she said, with disgust,
Her voice sarcastic and terse.
Wainscoting and woodwork – yellowed with age,
Hand-carved banisters – broken and cracked,
Floors – moaning and groaning under our weight,
Brass fixtures – discolored and black.
But all around, clues could be found
This once was a house that was prime,
Though it had had no loving care,
For a very long, long time,
A grand staircase swept up from below,
Elaborate in marble and teak,
Time and grime may have stolen its shine,
But there it stood … still proud and unique.
Then next a great room with huge windows,
Surely a ballroom meant for a dance,
Its draperies, musty and dusty,
Yet displaying an old elegance.
A chandelier hung from the ceiling,
Though archaic, it welcomed the light,
It gleamed a bit when the sunshine hit,
Thus proving it still had a life.
I closed my eyes and saw ladies in gowns,
And men in full dress, bowing low,
I heard a lively tune that filled the room,
And caught myself tapping my toe.
I saw children on the banisters,
I heard them giggle sliding by,
I saw them racing one another
Up the stairs for one more try.
The pictures in my mind persisted,
This abandoned place was once a home,
Love, warmth, and cheer one time were here,
Though now it was cold and alone.
“I’ll take the house!” I blurted out,
The realtor was struck dumb,
“Yes, I know what I am doing!”
She stood there, startled and stunned.
The price was right; the deed was done,
My name went on the dotted line,
We shook hands; she left in haste,
I guess for fear I’d change my mind.
I looked about and made a vow,
I swore I would revive this place,
Too much still alive in here,
Not time to go or be replaced.
I had the needed tools to use,
Soap and water … and elbow grease,
But most of all what I possessed
Was a wondrous dream that would not cease.
From laughing children on a staircase,
To dancing feet on polished floors,
From opened curtains at big windows,
To sunshine streaming in galore.
The poor realtor no way could see
The same house that I saw,
She only used her eyes to look,
So, she could not see it all.
Thus, to see things best, I must suggest
One employ all one’s faculties,
Not just one’s eyes to look around,
But use one’s heart to fully see.