The Changeling Room

It truly happened that she changed the room

The fitted furniture was banished to the shed

I miss the battered filing cabinet

Full now of gardening tools

Once vital documents long gone.

 

Still, I am promoted to best armchair

Transported from some outer space

To the cosy coffee corner.

Deep and soft and rosy pink

In which a furry cat may sleep

 

My haughty friend – the buttoned chair

Sits primly opposite

A dainty lady perches there

Tiny cup in pretty hand

Basking in the window’s light.

 

Steaming pottery mugs in hand

Friends can come and share

For a time – turned in upon their worlds

With muffled whisperings and secret talk

Here the place for gossip lies.

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