Tamara Willems

to looking up with love…

The view from my chair this morning 
briefly looking up from my book, 
has me besotted 
as will be revealed to you
I am absolutely, and utterly in love  
with my house 
the history and character 
ingrained in each stick of wood 
each lick of paint 
each creak of a wooden floor board 
the light, the shadow
occasional cobweb in the corner
even a little …  the dust 
the ghost cat that moves through 
jumps up 
on the bed 
catches one’s eye 
the occasional thud from upstairs 
when no-one 
odd stamps that appear in a crevice 
or drawer 
the sound of a drip 
with no evidence ever found 
but mostly, that it has felt like the most wonderful thing 
since the first time we looked 
and felt  
its welcome 
we came at the time with just two in tow 
then added two more 
we have accumulated and acquired 
attempting to burst a few seams 
we have rewired, re-plumbed 
re-roofed, windowed, stuccoed and painted
and always it holds us  
gladly absorbing both laughter and tears 
joys and pains, loud noises, silences
celebrations and
it holds us

in gratitude, I love each door
and doorframe 
each impossible angle 
and hidden nuance 
I love the railing on the stairs 
the trapdoor to the attic 
and the secrets 
behind the  

I love that it suits us 
that it holds us 
that it 
when we’re here 
and each night 
in gratitude 
I thank it for loving  
just as much ♥

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