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About This Author
 Writing poetry allows me to exercise my imagination and share it with others. I strive to write for the benefit of the reader using carnival fun mirror images of my life's experiences.
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| It seemed like the perfect home for our family of four, Three spacious bedrooms brand new carpet on the floor, A modern kitchen, two-car garage, huge landscaped yard, Deciding to close on this tempting deal wasn't very hard. Ok, of being an active neurotic I've seldom been accused, My wife would abide by my advances, rarely been refused, Until the day we moved into that creepy voodoo house, Sadly souring the rich relationship I had with my spouse. Shortly after moving bewildering defects began to show, The finished basement flooded causing many hours of woe, A sump pump for the water, we thought everything had dried, When black mold began to grow my poor wife and I both cried. The water and mold had damaged the wooden first-floor joists, The floor was clearly sagging and with our aggravation voiced, We paid dearly for the repairs, our home seemed just as new, But the uneasy feeling in our gut was much more than deja vu. A summer storm from the northeast rained hard for seven days, To the ugly sound of drip buckets, our options we'd reappraise, Once more repairs were made but we moved our possessions out, When the house was sold we bumped fists with a celebrative shout.
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