Flowers Guarding the Door
A portal really is a door,
A hole in solid wall.
A window shows us somewhat more,
But there is nothing like a door
To make us stand up tall.

Of course, we have to open it.
Oh, how we love the chair.
The monitor suggests we sit.
The door insists we open it
And wander on out there.

Linked to dVerse Poetics where Anmol is hosting with the theme of portals.

Entrance to a Garden

Author: Frank Hubeny

I enjoy walking, poetry and short prose as well as taking pictures with my phone.

63 thoughts on “Portal”

  1. kaykuala

    The monitor suggests we sit.
    The door insists we open it

    It is odd to think that we want to do something worthwhile in this lockdown at home yet we desire to be free> It is a frustrating choice, Frank, Agreed!


    Liked by 1 person

  2. You reminded me of Tolkein, and “The roads go ever on”
    The Road goes ever on and on
    Down from the door where it began.
    Now far ahead the Road has gone,
    And I must follow, if I can,
    Pursuing it with weary feet,
    Until it joins some larger way,
    Where many paths and errands meet.
    And whither then? I cannot say.

    that attraction of the unknown, and your use of rhythm and rhyme, I guess. Lovely.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. So funny to think that a portal is something that occurs on a computer, (Push my labs to the portal please nurse).
    Actual portals are so much more pleasant! I enjoyed this Frank!


Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: