Eight Sided House

The sound of footsteps at my entrance
The creaking of a door, and voices
Voices of Excitement, astonishment
And wonder that seems to grow.

A feeling of warmth overwhelms me
As the unfamiliar footsteps explore
The musty secrets I've kept hidden
For so many years. I'm scared.

My dust has disappeared
My smell is overcome by a strong scent.
My legs are bare and cold
My eyes are clear and clean

The old hat I used to wear is gone.
The footsteps and voices brought me a new one.
My new hat makes me look beautiful and
I am not cold or damp anymore.

Footsteps are starting to feed me
with the things they cherish and loved ones.
I start to fell full and not empty
As I felt for quite a while.

I thank my friendly footsteps and voices
By giving them comfort and shelter.
I will do so because they have given me
Love,  sense of being reborn as the majestic house I once was.

by Sarina Otaibi, 2002
My daughter, Sarina wrote this poem about Holt House, now she is
rescuing and restoring her own house, the Weaver House in Granite
Falls.