Happy House.
March 27, 2010
I want a house in the hills,
with pristine views of the skies
and the forgotten mills.
I want the linen on my bed,
to speak to me in riddles
and leave me with stories worthy of pickles.
I want a stone fire place,
with skewers made of iron
and a fire that mimics a dancer’s grace.
I want my cutlery to be happy and queer,
with mismatching colours of the rainbow
to leave my guests puzzled with cheer.
I want the sunshine and I want the rain,
and when you walk in through that door,
I want you to blink back in amaze.
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