Sunday 14 June 2015

In Thora's House

In Thora's house there's a precious trove
Books and treasures hanging from the walls
The floor is piled with magic stuff
A patchwork-rendered brick and massive oak-beam record of centuries.
Sixteen wicker baskets, bags and trugs hang from a kitchen ceiling beam.
Steamrollered cookware betrays its three-dimensional origins
In proud and crazy exhibit on a wall.
A dictionary open on a desk-stand in the diner
Near the fire a pile of dictionaries frequently perused
She chases words as they tease our conversation.
When the eye adjusts more dictionaries reveal themselves in shelves and shelves
And from her swaps, twenty-six pages only are saved.
Les autres feuilles are varnished on to indifferent wooden furniture.
A literal, literary house of words,
A house of interpretations 
Where meanings
Have their own
Meanings.

Orange boxes brim with kindling and logs.
The clocks have all stopped
All times
All seasons
Frozen.


Upstairs in the guestroom
Larousse Commercial Illustré
Larousse Médical
Larousse Universal en deux volumes
Larousse Familial …
Dico!  Dico!  Dico!

Did I mention the hats?

From a box by the window look out across the narrow, narrow street
Drinking the curves of tiles on the neighbouring roof … 
Contemplating an expedition up the ladder-steep staircase
To the ancient, open hayloft
Her secret summer boudoir
Repository of deliberately forgotten objets d'art
Et les objets pas d'art – encore oublié

So much half-forbiddden promise in this half-light
Always open to another world, the street below that never knows.

Falling backwards on to the bed built out of boxes and a mattress,
Stare into heaven after the heaven of lover's games
And through the tiles contemplate the stars.

In Thora's house.


In Thora’s House © Marshlander - 25th February 2011

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