Ivan Donn Carswell Poems

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This house which is lived in resounds
with the chorus of voices bound in the press
of its generous, unconcealed blessings;
affection is neither distressed nor restrained,
nor caught in the intricate mesh of wicker
and wire-ordered veins of its living construction,
contained within gentle, carbon-breathing walls.
The halls are hung with wooded reminders that ask
your forbearance – the task is benign
and in the heartbeat pulsing rooms
you find an arcade of worthy mementos
defined. The rooms are clothed in guises unique
and disconnected each from each,
yet oddly unified, resting easily before eyes
sorely seduced, wearing tenant characters
deduced in muted shades and crafted shadows
folded into thriving colour and softening drapes
hung or flung in wide, comforting curves revealing
the objects ordinarily placed in ordered disorder;
this space is so soothing and yet it deceives
in the ease that it steals your heart.
Where do you start in derisory word
and hackneyed phrases to describe this house
which astounds and amazes?
© I.D. Carswell
For Paula and her amazing Houses

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