A Room
With A View

I've always wanted
A room with a view
A canvas of flowers
In periwinkle blue

Or a window framing
An ocean of green
The sunset dripping
On aquamarine

Though what I see
Is nothing of the kind
It's a yard cluttered
With toys left behind

There's a derelict bike
And a single white skate
Popcicle wrappers
And a wooden crate

My roses are weeping
Their heads hung in plight
Draped from a bud
Is a red dragon kite

To my favorite willow
A tree house clings
Dangling below
An old tire swings

The grass isn't lush
But dead from foot-races
Where tiny feet tread
In the same old places

The number of holes
Has vastly grown
Where the dog went in search
Of his favorite bone

A yellow domed bus
Lumbers along
Returning its riders
To where they belong

As the kids round the corner
Where alyssum once grew
It occurs to me
I have a room with a view

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