Pen & Ink Fall, 1959

The old forgotten mansion is falling quickly to ruin and decay. A once magnificent archway now stands battered and draped with the cobwebs of generations past. An extraordinarily beautiful bust of ornate French bisque no longer graces the top of a tall, alabaster pedestal; her serenely smiling face now lies cracked and cast aside. Two lonely crystal goblets stand side by side on a tarnished silver tray. Their carved surfaces, worked by master craftsmen of unfathomable skill, are no longer distinguishable to the human eye. The windows, once hung with heavy velvet drapes, now stand bare and thick with the dust of by-gone days. The floors, always covered with thick plush carpeting, now seem to sigh and moan in strange bare whispers after each step is placed on their bare surfaces. The huge, winding staircase is now host to naught but spiders and such. Rooms remain locked. No human eye may view their depths again. Not even cheering sunlight is allowed to enter, for heavy shutters block these pleasant, warming rays of light. A huge, crystal chandelier lies shattered on the floor. No longer is it king of parties and balls for miles about. Certainly something must remain of the former elegance and pomp that graced this house! Could it be the huge and towering oak outside that stands embraced by strangling vines of years' entwinement?

Everyone is on this train!
The fancy person and the plain,
The poor man (with no bags of gold),
The rich man (with his wealth untold).
A little girl who acts so coy,
The weeping waif with broken toy,
The man with burdens on his head,
The woman who is not well fed,
The man of wisdom and the fool,
The weary worker with his tool.
They all rub shoulders in this,car;
Some journey near, and some afar.
Where do you go? I wish I knew.
Ah, that I might be with you.
Farewell, mankind, yet do not sigh,
This is my stop, I shall not cry.
I'll leave this train with willing heart.
It is my fate so to depart.
My journey's done, my trip complete,
I greet thee, Death, and now to sleep.