House of Many Rooms

House of Many Rooms


I think of life as a house of many rooms.
There are rooms where we entertain guests and friends
This is when we are on our best behavior
Our dress and manners are impeccable
We charm and cater to our guest's every whim.

Then there is the kitchen where we feel at ease.
In underwear we make coffee, cook breakfast,
Retire to the living room, put our feet up.
Read the morning paper or watch the TV.
This is where we really live, we are at home.

In other rooms we endure noble pursuits.
We read to expand and challenge feeble minds.
We exercise tired muscles to feel the burn.
We write to elucidate our ideas;
These are bound to change the world and educate.

There are special rooms where we raised our children.
I can still almost hear the peals of laughter,
The nightly bedtime stories to bring on sleep,
And the tussles over a favorite toy.
These rooms full of memories are sadly empty.

Lastly, we retire to the peaceful bedroom.
Depending on ones age this may be restful,
Otherwise, it may appear as a circus;
Daring events erupting in ecstasy.
Then comes snuggling, relaxation and sleep.

Of course there are other rooms, some functional:
Basements for storage of the things we may need,
For the washer and dryer in constant use;
The bathroom, forever in need of cleaning;
The attic for Christmas lites, decorations.

I think of life as a house of many rooms.
A repository for all our memories.
It may be in need of some renovation,
Perhaps a coat of paint, some holes to be filled.
All in all it is a grand and joyous house.