Lumber Room

I stare into this room -
It is square
Filled with all kinds of junk
Familiar to my eye.
I gaze fondly at
All the humps and bumps
Of furniture and boxes
Lumber  stacked
With care.
Dust sheets
Cover  the best pieces
While  old stuffed
Armchairs  collect
Dustlayers to fox
Their colours
And  the walls are bare,
The window  shuttered,
The aroma  of gloom is strong

There  will be a Spring
Not long in coming -
I will welcome the
Chance to entice
Light in,
Sweep  cobwebbed corners,
Suck up the dust,
Pluck all covers
Clean -
Make  the place
Gleam  bright
As  any new pin.
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