Thinks of the things that she may write,
Sweet dreams to come into her night.
Emotions are often there in tatters,
Like the glass of a mirror it shatters.
Falling at once upon the floor,
Leaving her staring, wanting more.
Sometimes I will think of the things I deny,
And how to musings, myself I’ll apply.
What a wonderful web we tangle,
When you can see it from every angle.
Not trying ever to deceive,
Is what we strive to achieve.
I recently read a wonderful page which mentioned being up on the roof. and in a flash of inspiration I returned for a moment to my favourite place in our second childhood home.
When I was ten years old we moved away from school and the friends that I had come to know and travelled to a new place. I was full of hope, finally getting away from the children that had terrorised me up until then. This would be the chance for a whole new existence. As the youngest child at the time, I was happy to have the smaller bedroom, it overlooked most of the garden, had a nice window and I used to climb out of the window and sit on the bathroom roof. It had a small brick ridge to the pitch where it joined the house next door and it was just big enough to perch along it. I loved sitting out there, when things had all got too much, after arguments with my brother or friends at school, or my parents. It was my thinking space and I loved to take time out to be there. I always was told off if my parents found out that I had been up there, but I took the risk on so many occasions. It was slightly less dangerous once they had the new roof fitted after which I could see no real reason why I shouldn’t go there. Falling was never considered since I was always careful.
A couple of years later, my sister arrived and I very reluctantly had to move into the larger bedroom, having previously had the small box room for the first ten years of my life I always preferred the smaller room. Years later, when my brother was away, I asked to borrow his room and regularly ventured out up on the roof, much to the surprise of the new neighbours when they moved next door. From up there you could see both up and down the road in the gardens, I could also wave at my friend down the road, from his roof windows, when he was home.
I liked the height and the inaccessibility of a roof, most people I knew would not venture out there and as I grew older I later chose homes which were high up wherever possible. I felt somehow safer there. The balcony flats where I lived for 13 years, were fantastic for the views and I feel truly at home living up high, it also kept unwanted visitors out and I could enjoy the view, looking out over the rooftops and letting the imagination run wild once again.