Seven years of being home

Seven years to the day it was when our lips first met.

My feet were still in London but my heart followed you elsewhere.

My heart had been set in London for the previous twenty years,

But chance encounters led me to your arms,

And I moved house, job, and many plans

Just to be then by your side.

And then the old dream became true:

Walking together onto the brightly lit stage,

Taking up our roles, stunning in the spotlight,

Just like we were once told we would not be able to.

But we chose to carry on, and make it on our own,

Setting up together, posing for the artists, singing for the drained,

Smiling at the cameras, basking in the fame,

The fame that’s yet to come, the fame that’s on its way.

As we kissed in Hyde Park that Autumn Equinox I knew instantly

That you would be my home,

As we learned about each other and our mutual wish was clear,

As we broke the paradigms of past regrets and fears,

The paradigms of social rules that don’t belong here anymore,

The social rules and standards that had held us back,

I knew that it was you with whom I had to take my chance.

What does it matter, in the end,

That I began already “mature”?

What does it matter, in the end,

All those past words that amplified insecurity?

What I had always wanted was to shine,

And at 32 you gave me space for that.

Here I am now, home: in the theatre, on the set;

Home in the catwalk and home in my flesh,

Whether naked or in costume,

Or a part of the ensemble or the leading lady, both,

Every time the boards creak as I move to my mark I’m home;

And every time the flashes bring out my eyes,

And every time a pencil follows my curves and my lines,

I’m home every second I’m on display,

Every time a paintbrush caresses my skin,

Every second I’m in character and every second I’m just me,

I’m home wherever there is art,

And I’m home wherever your arms are.

Who’d have thought that a marriage would give us both our childhood dreams?

Instead of towels, we’ve got a Theatre Company,

His & Hers because it’s ours both,

Because we chose to, and we direct our own life,

And we script our own scenarios and design our own scripts,

As we produce exactly what we want, and plan for even more!

Seven years ago I swapped bustling Greenwich for the green hills of Somerset,

Seven years of bliss, creativity and shows,

Here’s to another seven and then another further more,

Even if not in Glastonbury in further years to come,

Here’s to years and years of being home,

And knowing exactly what is home:

Not a country, not a city, not a state,

Just my lover, my passion and all that we create.