Be My Innkeeper Poem by Suzanne Hayasaki

Unlock my front door and leave it ajar.
Unfix my hinges and throw open my windows.
Let fresh air blow through my stale confines.
It’s spring cleaning time!

I have been closed up for months.
There are bugs in my rugs!
There is dust on my divans!
There is ash in my mantle!

I can be a showplace!
But only when I am filled with guests.
Only when the sea breeze carries convivial voices through me.
Only when the evening finds my lawns dotted with courting couples.
Only when my dining room is brimming with vivacious conversations.

I long for high tea on my tables.
I long for dancing in my ballroom.
I long for trysts on my balconies.
I long for cigar smoke in my bar.

But first I must be made ready.
Call in an army of maids!
Find me a chef and a sommelier.
Decorate my entrance with freshly cut flowers!
Then let the world know I am open!

Then let them come!
In couples
With kids
In groups
Or as singles.
Fill me to capacity
And I will come to life again.

My walls will speak of past happenings.
My chandeliers will glow like wax candles.
My hardwood floors will gleam with the wear of feet
Who danced reels and quatrains while war raged
Between brothers and cousins and good men fell.

I stood through the war.
I stood through the chaos that followed.
I stood while all around me changed.
I stood as everything familiar faded away.

I have been renovated.
I have been reinvented.
I have been a guesthouse.
I have been a bed and breakfast.

I will continue to endure whatever reconstruction I must
To keep me filled with people in need of a safe place to rest.