Our House

‘Our House

We bought our house in 1968, for eighteen hundred pounds.

A little terrace in a row, anything bigger was out of our bounds.

It had a loo in the garden, a bath downstairs, three bedrooms.

After a couple of years, we had a bedroom turned into a bathroom. All pale blue,

Although we still kept the outside loo.

The kitchen was extended, to incorporate the old bathroom.

For us that couldn’t be to soon.

This lasted us for many years.

Although the kitchen still drove me to tears.

Then a few years ago we had the kitchen, flattened to the ground.

It cost several times more, than the original, eighteen hundred pounds.

But up sprung, brand new kitchen fittings and all.

Also a new washroom and loo, but guess what has happened to the walls.

I started writing, a little, bit by bit, now there are no walls to be seen.

They are all covered in cuttings, of stories, poems, articles, etc, photos,
or of places Ive been.

When people go to our loo, they disappear for ages,

Stuck in there reading pages after pages.

Our kitchen cupboard fronts are all covered as well.

There certainly has been a story to tell.

Life has certainly changed, beyond my wildest dreams.

Life is reflected, upon the walls, reams by reams.

                                                    ‘Our House

We bought our house in 1968, for eighteen hundred pounds.

A little terrace in a row, anything bigger was out of our bounds.

It had a loo in the garden, a bath downstairs, three bedrooms.

After a couple of years, we had a bedroom turned into a bathroom. All pale blue,

Although we still kept the outside loo.

The kitchen was extended, to incorporate the old bathroom.

For us that couldn’t be to soon.

This lasted us for many years.

Although the kitchen still drove me to tears.

Then a few years ago we had the kitchen, flattened to the ground.

It cost several times more, than the original, eighteen hundred pounds.

But up sprung, brand new kitchen fittings and all.

Also a new washroom and loo, but guess what has happened to the walls.

I started writing, a little, bit by bit, now there are no walls to be seen.

They are all covered in cuttings, of stories, poems, articles, etc, photos,
or of places Ive been.

When people go to our loo, they disappear for ages,

Stuck in there reading pages after pages.

Our kitchen cupboard fronts are all covered as well.

There certainly has been a story to tell.

Life has certainly changed, beyond my wildest dreams.

Life is reflected, upon the walls, reams by reams.

v
Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

Poem

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Gelok Avatar
August 19, 2021 at 2:46 PM
Well what an interesting remodel ! I think I may start wallpapering my bathroom. I totally enjoyed this read
Eastman Avatar
April 21, 2014 at 10:50 AM
Your writing held me there till the end. Very riveting story poem.
A   Avatar
July 11, 2013 at 3:14 PM
Pat, it is lovely... deep..... glad you grew into the house, home... xox..PD
Lander Avatar
May 1, 2013 at 6:34 AM
There's no place like home I enjoy this.. thank you for sharing with us..
Tams The Golden Girl Avatar
February 7, 2013 at 5:29 AM
hi this is nice and to think you have been there all that time xx soup
Komala Avatar
February 1, 2013 at 7:37 PM
...so lovely written story... thank you my friend for sharing your great write <3 enjoyed !!! :)SK
Squyres Avatar
February 1, 2013 at 3:23 PM
Enchanting write !! I enjoyed your story poem...and what a novel idea..people sometimes enjoy reading material in the bathroom...for some reason lol
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