& every room is a chapter.
Some captivate us in a way that no other can,
A sense of perfection despite all the imperfections.
That one room that provides serenity when the rest is chaos.
Even in our quaint home that room exists.
Awkwardly shaped and small in size,
Barely big enough for an office; but the room I {dream} to be a nursery.
Dusty blue carpet and two built-in cabinets,
Only one window facing north that allows the rays to dance past.
But this room,
This room is adorned with memories.
Intentionally placed treasures.
An old desk and cabinet with scratched surfaces that show the love of all us grandkids,
What used to be my grandparents' but now dwells in my heart and home.
& for my husband, a small wooden angel from his great grandma,
For, now she is dwelling in the Lord's kingdom.
My husband's affection for me displayed as dried remnants of roses as a reminder daily.
The love. So much love.
& then there's the dress. the dress that brings a flood of memories.
All white, covered in lace, that I walked the aisle toward my future. my lover. my friend.
Fresh greenery in a tea tin,
A tea tin emptied after casual porch swing dates and cuddles.
Items that bring me back to those times grace the four walls,
After all, what is a room if life isn't displayed?
The life that we walk through daily.
Things of new and old ,
all holding a special place and telling our story.
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