Castle oF the broken heart

The castle stands with open hands,


It’s stones surrounding undone plans.


The weather beats with wind and sand


upon that structure once so grand.




Stairways fallen, floors collapsed,


Graffiti scrawls from thoughtless cast.


Dome’s metal left without the glass,


to filter light, and stop the blast


of elemental forces past.




Silver flaking from the mirrors,


reflecting only George Boldt’s tears;


instead of Madame’s face for years.




Why left to waste,


it’s heart to rend,


what led George Boldt to cease to spend,


to stop the work,


dismiss the men,


and leave Boldt half a castle then?




One day the castle dream just died,


with Mrs. Boldt,


and left inside


George Boldt


a weight of heavy pain,


and vows to never see again,


that place of dreams;


and vanished bride.




For many years the castle sat,


exposed to water, vandals, rat.


til' nothing left except the shell,


to share with all it’s tale to tell.




They raise it now to former state,


the day George Boldt declared its fate,


but still I wonder in the end,


will such half-measures serve to mend


the heart within our castle friend?




Let’s finish Boldt


for all to spend,


glad social times


with friends inside,


t’will cheer the mood


of ghostly bride,


descending staircase,


George at side.