This most odd of places, to which I retreat.
Shuffle off teacher robes, and return to myself.
This quiet, sunlit cove of my lifes and loves.
Plastered over the walls, as if by retreating floods.
Yey no. Not plastered. Placed, with loving care
for eyes to drink upon and be refreshed,
Whatever challenges the chipping away
at the chalkface may splinter me with.
Here is haven and a home.
Copyright Tom Tide 2017