The Yellow House

Original oil on wooden panel, framed in a hand-painted yellow wooden frame with a gold plaque, 73 × 65 cm.

The Yellow House

I still remember that house of gold,
Its roof of blue, its chimneys old.
The doves would gather, soft and near,
Their cooing, constant, calm and clear.

An angel turned upon the vane,
It caught the wind, it called the rain.
Beneath the trees we spread our loot,
A blanket bright with summer fruit.

The cat watched quietly, and gave a yawn
While a horse galloped on the verdant lawn.
Laughter and sunlight, all agleam,
A fleeting, golden childhood dream.