The Room In Blue

I LOVE this... I love it for it's honesty & warmth & gorgeous sense of domestic peace. I love it for it's testament to love & sweetness & commitment & apreciation of spousal interation. I love it for it's easiness & it's openess, it's spanish voices, attempts at sleeping in & the workmens boots & rhythms. The detail is delightful, imagery so warm, the sentiment a dream (dont' burst my bubble if it isn't real, do men still care for their lovers so well after 16 years?... sigh). I love it for my own experiences with blue & surprised delight (my husband adamently exclaiming "I will NEVER have a mortgage & a white picket fence"... when we finally bought a house some years later the picket fence was white!!! So I painted it a vibrant floating blue.. it was a joke really to address his comment, me thinking we would most likely lose the fence altogether.. but I fell in love with it as the colour grew under my brush... & when my husband left... for a 21 yr old blond... I painted the house lavender, it suited the fence!... He is someone elses husband now... & I love my blue fence)... Ah but your story is a delight. If you get a chance, have a listen to a song called "Leave it like it is" by David Wilcox... Very different story but I love it for similar reasons... I will try to post you the lyrics at least, but the song is great & worth a listen. Thank you for this lovely restful piece, I feel I could lie down in it & pretend I was there in your warm blue room, it is painted so sweetly & so subtly, the detail is delightful & the sentiment so warm & full. Anni I wish to walk gracefully..... so as not to spill water.

I related so well to your poem that I forgot to look for anything wrong with it... must not be huh! My wife and I have much the same sort of thing going, the one I hate is moving furniture around... it always looks better where she wants it but.... and of course, I look and have to admit... she was right! enjoy your blue room... Richard

And do not think your wife is alone. I had also posted a poem on this site about a house in blue (a children's poem called Crayola house). And when I was a child, my father was kind enough to humor me by painting my room half green and half yellow so it looked (in my eyes) like a sunlit forest. So, as for Anni, it triggers feelings of domestic love. I also want to say I knew a man whose wife was a painter and persuaded him to let her paint every room a different color so they could have a rainbow house, which he ended up loving - probably b/c he loved her. My only critical thought about this piece is whether it would benefit from longer lines. For me, a poem of such length with short lines makes for a long, halting read. Whatever-it's a deeply warm and enjoyable read.

Here are the lyrics I was talking about... enjoy! Leave it Like it is David Wilcox Now when the paint jar tipped - Off of the table - You watched as it started to fall Glass popped, shattered and splattered - And paint spray hit the wall Bright, blue glossy enamel - Across the kitchen floor - You said, "Good God, look at that pattern I've never seen that before" Leave it like it is - Never mind the turpentine - Leave it like it is - Its fine Now when the paint dried - You gave it a title - You called it "Kitchen Blue" – A white frame painted around it - And gallery lighting too Rich folks come over to dinner - They all want one of their own They say "How much? Who's the artist" - And, "My what a beautiful home" Now most folks suffer in sorrow - Thinking they're just no good They don't match the magazine model - As close as they think they should They live just like the "paint by numbers" - The teacher would be impressed A life-time of follow the lines - So it's just like all of the rest Leave it like it is - Never mind the turpentine - Leave it like it is - Its fine Anni I wish to walk gracefully..... so as not to spill water.

The naration of the poem keep the reader engaged. shan

Liberating, trusting, enduring love! The best things in life. Sincerely~ Debbie

My freind of long long ago was redoing his old house and in the morning he heard this sound and it was birds and he heard the phrase "The birds are breathing" we laughed at the time he was delusional with lack of sleep getting his baby room ready then years later I re did Chloes room and then my own room Chloe stayed with her mom in the big room and the two dogs and Ms Kittee I moved to my room the baby room only used for changing and bathing we couldnt bear to hear her cry And in tribal villages the baby is close to the parents anyway till older and thus is was this poem is so beautifully written My Lori tells me things and I dont believe it can be But after much arguing I do it and it works superb Oh If I can only just let her have her way I am so wrong I want to cry at my frustration my own stubborness I bought her a "Happy Bunny" chocolate bunny after returning good movies to the video store or cd store she is sleeping the birds are breathing exhaultedness is weeping on the garden of parched need and Your poems sir are absolutely beautiful and so are you for recognizing your wifes good sense I could hug you