House on the Rock

So I'm pretty sure that I never talked about when I went to House on the Rock with my friend at the beginning of last month.  For those who don't know, the House on the Rock is one of those human oddities that you really need to see to believe.  In a nutshell, it's a collection of just about everything.  And it's magical, which is probably why it appears in Neil Gaiman's American Gods, which may or may not have been the basis for its appeal to us.

My friend and I are on a mission to go on adventures to give us more material for our writing and also to get us out of the house because we tend to be the type of people who like to laze around the house for long periods of time, which...you might have noticed if you read my blog with any regularity.  Not the point.

Going back through my Poem-A-Day February, I found this poem that I wrote after we visited the House on the Rock.

February 3, 2013

Snakey road, covered in snow
leads to the upside down house,
everyone's play land.
Dolls and guns and
paper weights.
Stuffed owls and
pinned butterflies and
music boxes.
The air pumps through the hallways
like breath from a million lungs,
sending drums thumping heartbeat
and flutes whistling,
ribbons flying like sassy tongues.
Far saner than anticipated,
but the low ceilings
and dim lights remind us of twilight
evenings where maybe
we'd sit by the fire
and curl up on a rock.

Posted for Poetry Pantry #140!

"All your questions can be answered, if that is what you want.  But once you learn your answers, you can never unlearn them."

- Neil Gaiman, American Gods