I wish I owned my own little house,
with a few rooms, a cat and a mouse.
Free to hang upon my my walls
framed canvases, mirrors, clothes racks,
a few chairs to scatter about,
a colorful comfy wooden bed,
uneven, well trodden painted floors,
and open windows to let light in
illuminating grace and sin.
Surrounded by roughly painted textured walls,
coarsely finished furniture,
and brass hinged, creaky thin oaken doors
that open and close other rooms,
I may visit and wish to be alone,
I see suiting me well as a
castle where gentleman and fair ladies
dwell for their own affairs and airs.
Having neither house or a castle grand,
content before Van Gogh's I stand
and pass some sweet time imagining.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very amazing art work shared with wise mind definitely. This is expressive poem.10