182 - House

I dream about this massive house

Owned by a friend of mine

It's a recurring dream, it happens lots

And it's quite a strange design

It has lots of rooms that don't get used

And others that are full

Corridors that go here and there

And doors you have to pull

There are tall towers and massive gardens

A giant pond as well

I like to pretend that I live there

I'm not rich - can't you tell?

There's a music room and cuddly toys

Stacked on enormous beds

And staircases going up and down

Each with many treads

I've visited this place many times

Even though it's not real

But when I win the lottery

I'll build it - because it's ideal

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This poem appears in the book World’s Bestest Poetry Volume Two, available from the Shop!