Down Selhurst Lane

My uncle lived down Selhurst Lane,
A crystal palace of a farm;
But then he died when I was young,
And they all moved away

I still recall his booming laugh –
The Aqua Velva that he wore –
But then he died when I was young,
And never saw the day

His daughter wed, and had a boy,
His wife sold her first painting, and
The corn came up in that back field
That he had plowed – again —

The snow lays cold down Selhurst Lane,
And memory fades like echoes die,
Like muffled footsteps in the snow
Of long-forgotten men

Like muffled footsteps in the snow
Of long-forgotten men

Author: Sibelius Russell

Sibelius Russell (a/k/a/ Owen "Beleaguered" Servant) lives a life of whimsical servitude -- whatever that means.

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