The New Bedroom Poem by Diana Rosser

The new bedroom,
which I built in my head
for what seemed an endless time waits,
with full boxes for her return.

There is no furniture yet,
though ordered and on its way,
the room expectant, vacant, pauses;
until it will be pushed and pulled
into welcoming display.

How long I have dreamt,
since they were small
that they would all,
have their special space to come,
when life rained or sunshine shone
and they felt the need for home;
for I never had that place to come.

Now, it is nearly done
and through the window,
beyond the weathered fence
where the rambling rose and ivy grow;
the high field waves
with summer grass and buttercups.