Day the twenty-eighth

Today the prompt is to describe a bedroom from your past.


And so to sleep.

Wallpaper with poppies and other spring flowers
Rioting all over it, but on a white background, and
The seams not quite smooth which are a great
Temptation to a small child to pick and poke at.

A shelf, mysteriously sitting at the side of the room,
And a step below it; adulthood tells me that this box
Is there to accommodate the stairs beneath, but
As a small child it was a puzzle and an intrigue.

A white chest of drawers with clothes from a bygone
Age within it, perfume bottles from a different life,
And false pearls and costume brooches that
Sparkle in the evening sun and tempt little fingers.

A window ledge behind the curtain, a space a small
Child could sit in and read after bedtime, until
She is spotted by her grandfather who lives just
A few raindrops away, and a phone call results.

This was the room that I knew, this was the room of the
Days when I was normal and had two parents and things
Were not all wrong and horrid, but when they sent me away
I came home to no father and a different bedroom.