There is this house – have you not heard of it?
It’s far enough to call it country house
Yet close enough to get to everywhere,
Don’t miss out on anything, what’s more
Get visited by everyone who’s anyone.
Big landscaped garden and some 20 acres –
Came with the house and all, you know.

A spot of gardening but hours later
Pottering about has turned into hard work.
So organise a gardener, and who was it
You called to resurface the old tennis court?
The builders in and out, the swimming pool –
The cost of heating it, I swear
I won’t have that again.

Candles in the garden, the pavilion lit,
The drawing room for cocktails and
A nanny for the kids, so one can keep fit
And socialise, that glass of wine to speed the time –
So busy on the phone and dropping a line
Only to the closest friends of mine.

Now quickly for some exercise
To burn off the booze,
Just that little drink to take off the edge
Of being owned by this house,
This life of empty busyness,
That buzz that drowns out the silence
Where once I dreamt…

But that’s all gone and I have moved,
Left the house and left that life,
Left all but the silence which followed me
And know it owns me still.

© jsmorgane (July 2014)