Each room has four walls and a ceiling
though the number of windows does vary.
It isn't a prison, despite any feeling
it might be, when moods are contrary.
In through one door and out through another
(lounge and kitchen, they each have a pair --
two solid, two glazed), I discover
variety's why they are there.
And when my surroundings grow boring,
a tad too familiar, perhaps.
I don't hide in bed, simply snoring,
nor just paper over the cracks --
When the sameness is too hard to handle
and life is becoming a bore,
I lie down to see a fresh angle.
Things look fresher from here on the floor.
© Celia Warren 2020
Wow, it's the last day of April, and the last day of this year's National Poetry Writing Month! Phew! It's the first time I've attempted this challenge, and some days the muse has visited more williingly than others.
Thank you so much to Scribbler who started the Blipfoto version of the poetry challenge years ago, and Hildasrose, who hosted it this year. Thanks, too, to Ingeborg for yet again hosting the Abstract Thursday challenge, this week with the prompt word 'angle'. Apart from anything else, under lockdown, most blippers would have no idea of the day of the week without these regular challenges.
This is a small part of my anthurium (it has three more flowers), viewed from an unusual angle, and faffed with on my tablet. Thought it would fit the challenge on this rainy day (which the garden is loving - including the nettles, unfortunately, but I can deal with those anon). Keep safe, blipmates.