Her room is her temple:
books stand in line;
the chair guards the desk;
posters and prints stand to attention.
Every morning she makes her bed,
a wrapped up present,
a sealed envelope:
‘from me, to me, with love.’
It has character, she gives it character.
The fairy lights are ribbons,
they tie it all together!
And the cushions, they all match too.
Coats hung up, cupboards shut.
Her mother always nagged her, though,
told her to fold her clothes
(‘Don’t just shove them in!’).
Her cupboard drawers are
Pandora’s boxes, tightly sealed.
And the fairy lights, they are the
tape that keep them closed.
By Sophie Nevrkla