Written back in 2006 when I moved into a caravan.
Look at my home!
So flimsy, so fragile
The timbers thin as a bubble,
Frail as tissue paper skin hung
On a wire skeleton
Like a kite in the autumn air,
A montgolfier in the sky
A Chinese lantern, set to sail
The dark river, with a prayer of light
A paper boat, stuffed with dreams
A shadow theatre made of sheets and lamps,
A circus tent, billowing magic,
It is a frail and perfect thing, my home
A drum beneath the rain,
A flag upon the wind
It shrinks from fire
But fills with warmth
from only a candle flame
So sensitive, so permeable, so safe
The perfect home for the artist poet
Seeking farer weather and kinder winds.
Look at my home!
So flimsy, so fragile
The timbers thin as a bubble,
Frail as tissue paper skin hung
On a wire skeleton
Like a kite in the autumn air,
A montgolfier in the sky
A Chinese lantern, set to sail
The dark river, with a prayer of light
A paper boat, stuffed with dreams
A shadow theatre made of sheets and lamps,
A circus tent, billowing magic,
It is a frail and perfect thing, my home
A drum beneath the rain,
A flag upon the wind
It shrinks from fire
But fills with warmth
from only a candle flame
So sensitive, so permeable, so safe
The perfect home for the artist poet
Seeking farer weather and kinder winds.
I love this, thanks for lovely words. I can see and feel all of the things in the poem.
ReplyDeleteThank you Carolyn :)
Delete