The home of my dreams

I used to dream of a house:

Exposed bricks,

Timber floors,

A sky light,

Marble kitchen counters,

Yellow mood lighting,

A lovely garden;

Filled with sunflowers,

A big lounge room

With a massive tv,

A walk in wardrobe,

And a huge pool.

My house now

Is none of those things:

Fluorescent lighting,

One bathroom,

Tiny kitchen.

There’s a bit of mould

And a leaky roof.

No place to hang my clothes.

Possums break in.

No skylight,

And carpeted floors

That sometimes smell.

But we sit in the kitchen

With a cup of tea.

We snuggle in the lounge.

We cook together;

Dancing and giggling.

We argue a bit

But not too much.

We have barbecues

And small gatherings.

We have love

And comfort.

Our house is not grand

But it’s enough.

Here we’ve laid memories

One after another

Like bricks

And built ourselves

A beautiful foundation.

Our house isn’t pretty

The counters are vinyl.

It’s hot in summer

And cool in winter.

But together in this place

We have a home

And to me

That’s a far better dream.