The Quiet House

Friday September 19th, 2025

There was once a house on a hill, still silent and unnoisy

but cheery and joyful until the family closed its dwelling, a story

worth explaining and faithful imagination created for delivering.

The bread, milk, and cheese were there one day in the refrigerator,

once, but soon gone no longer there when next dissolve after.

The books, statues, and pictures would be on the dresser stands,

once, but soon gone no longer there when next disappear after.

The dogs, fish and cats would be in the yard once but soon gone no longer there when next left years after.

The clothes, furniture, and bed would be in the rooms once, but soon gone no longer there when next vanish after.

The house was quiet, and every square area capacity was empty

but the house sustained not bulldozed remained undemolished to

to the ground.

It made the rounds appearing in the distance miles

from towns, orchestrating the song of reflection like a pillar before the sky in the choir presence of the Lord.

The home was quiet, floors clean, pictures pristine, walls,

painted white cream, the flood plan was a dream, and the model

structure integrity was a dream, but the house is still quiet.

Vehement, but unexcited The Quiet House is God because it is

the House of God that is always restful. It never wastes, it never

sleeps. It never bores. It never ignores. It's never naive. It's never

ignorant nor distorted cold foolish furthermore.

The Quiet House is the Bible of God House Pacifying America.

~Cory Morrel