ORGANIC

That  cottage roof  sags
but my eye seems to like it,                       
it is not unsightly
if the chimney leans slightly
for the sun past it’s zenith ;
the rusted flake of things
please my rustic soul,
a  cooper’s iron rings,
an old scythe and a dog- bowl.
That straight wall is man’s will
but life has overgrown it,
where  the ivy clings tightly
my eye seems to like it
and the wood burns brightly
‘til the owl calls nightly.

              roy k. austin