Our first bedroom
was a work of art
where I bought my
profession and my painting to bear
like a Bower Bird building a nest to
attract and cement
a relationship with a mate.
I always preferred to make
my own Valentine cards
Christmas and birthday offerings
and even the gifts if possible
and that room was my gift to you
– on the ceiling a giant Chinese
prawn painted paper parasol
which I surprised you with
on a date in London and as
we walked, giddy along Oxford Street
we gathered a crowd of people
seeking shelter from the torrential rain
the painted prawns in their element
stopped from swimming off only by varnish.
The wall at the head of the bed
swam with myriad shoals of
tiny fishes gleaming like Neon Tetras
where I over sprayed the stencil
with spatters of silver
and the other wall moved subtly
from undersea azure to
misty morning blue
where an undergrowth of
real plants pressed and stencilled
emerged from the mist
at the foot of the wall
a perpetual daybreak to
greet us each morning.
I will not say that
all our intimacies took
place in that love nest
for in those days, any room
would do for us before
the clouds settled down on us
dampening ardour except for
brilliant sunbeams occasionally
breaking through
that bedroom was always but
our happy place
beneath the prawns
amongst the fishes
and flowering weeds
of late summer.
© Andrew Wilson, 2025
Over at dVerse Poets Pub, Dora in Poetics invetes us to “write a poem that conjures a view (whether from our travels or everyday life, whether from desire or experience) that is colored by the emotion of the moment“
Your first bedroom sounds wonderful, and I was disappointed that there was no photo, but used my imagination instead. I love the simile ‘like a Bower Bird building a nest to attract and cement a relationship with a mate’. I had one of those parasols too, and enjoyed these lines very much:
‘…as
we walked, giddy along Oxford Street
we gathered a crowd of people
seeking shelter from the torrential rain
the painted prawns in their element
stopped from swimming off only by varnish.’
Thanks Kim, this was in the days befire digital cameras made photigraphy so easy, but too, one never knew what things to record for posterity – immortalised from memory now though…
I found this movingly beautiful, Andrew! The things we do when we are giddy in love! It is these happy memories that help us live through the darker times.
Very true Punam and thank you very much…
Magical, Andrew, in the ardor of the love shared and manifest in creating a bower of handcrafted beauty. The “giant Chinese/prawn painted paper parasol” you make appear before our eyes, within that crowd, in that rainy moment in London, which by the way goes along with the watery theme. I thoroughly enjoyed this poem that captivates with its prismatic colors of emotion and imagery of a “happy place.” Truly lovely.
Thanks Dora, it’s a poem I wrote in my writing group recently but it fitted your theme I thought…
Love the details and touches of the things that make the day and place special.
Thanks Grace, writing a poem can be like opening a time capsule of memories…
You brought the room alive with memories of lovely times…I really enjoyed the concept very much, and it makes for a very good read.
Thanks Ain, I wish I had photos of that room but never thought to take them…
I love your comparing yourself to a bower bird in your preparations. Such fascinating artists of love they are, as you were. I crave photos….but you did well in projecting your images with words.
Thanks Judy – I finish work for the week at lunchtime so I am going to have a hunt and see if I can find anything…
Hi Andrew, how very imaginative and unusual. This bedroom must have been an amazing sight and a marvelous memory.
Lovely memories from a bedroom, you made it come along so well.