Now here’s a room of requirement:
Loft space, bedroom, storeroom
(in that order).
Murals turned in to hieroglyphs.
Bedding for all, from babies to the aged.
The whole slowly moving family museum
as cluttered and muddled as my subconscious.
Hermetically sealed, save for exploratory recce’s.
As dusty yet expectant as Haversham’s gaff.
© Tom TideTide 2016