Red Bungalow.
Some call it clutter...I call it Life!
Come… wander thru’ my little house,
and drift into my days and years
and love, and tears that came and went.
But never disappeared.
Mine is a Bungalow.
It’s filled with artefacts that I’ve amassed
and hauled around the world with me.
There’s no deep well of culture
buried here…no intricate
web that I can spin.
I cannot make up myths of Monks..
Like Soane of Lincoln's Inn.
I have…
Ceramic jugs from Portugal …
And treasures found in city skips,
A small shelf from Madrid.
Paintings …3 brooms…too many books,
A calendar by Anton Pieck ....
A Parisian hat and Brick Lane bric-a-brac …
Lamps. Rugs, and candlesticks
Postcards and International Stamps.
A basket from the Nile..
Shells from the Pitcairn Isles…
Bangles from India….a boomerang ,
C.D'S ... a feather from Bolivia,
and so much more...resides within.
The garden and my studio..
… the cat …the morning cheer !
They all reflect a wandering…
that brought me here.
I thank sweet Hestia….!
Please wander through my home with me.
I’ll put the kettle on the hob
and make a pot of Yak’s milk Tea !
Kristine Byrne May 2019..