a House To a Home

Years ago I stood in this spot

looking at this house.

My aspirations flying.

My heart so full of glee...

This property for me.

Designer rugs on the floor

and paintings on the wall.

Candles in the bathroom,

chandelier in the hall.

Everything had a place

and not a speck of dust.

The perfect place to show off.

Dinner parties were a must.

Then one turned to two

and workboots moved in.

Empty wrappers that very often missed the bin.

I tutted and chuntered

but nothing too serious.

The house was still perfect

no marks too mysterious.

The years flew

a new one came from two.

Then a few years more

and three became four.

Four to five,

another beautiful new life.

Gone are the ornaments, stained are the rugs.

Each mark a loving memory,

some poorly some good.

The cups in the sink.

Dust knows no bounds.

Never a quiet moment.

The ironing piled up in mounds.

Fingerprints on windows.

Toy blocks in the fridge????

Train track in the garage ( and that's just Dad)

Paint on the ornamental bridge.

The garden's full of laughter,

there's clutter at every turn.

But it doesn't really matter

because this show house is now a home.