When I grow up

When I grow up I will manage an Inn,
and it will be called Introvert House.
There will be no naysayers allowed.
There will be libraries and nooks.
Kitchens and craftrooms where one can create.
Cushions and hardbacked rocking chairs for reclining.
There will be a large garden where the determined can dig.
Outsiders might think it strange,
people sitting around in a room,
saying nothing, whilst reading or knitting
or writing in the same room
as a number of others.
There will be woods, behind, to walk out into,
and covers, covers everywhere, to crawl underneath.
Tea, coffee, hot cocoa, of course,
headphones galore, and don’t forget the wi-fi.
There will likely be cats, probably more than is wise.
The whole house will be full up,
introverts revelling in solitude,
but never alone.
(There will be cars, bicycles, too, to jaunt in
to town for more coffee or books, but those
trips will be voluntary, and never, ever,
sprung as a surprise.)

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4 thoughts on “When I grow up

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