She picks the colour
of the paint
with care and deliberation,
the background must
act as the perfect foil.
The walls are not quite smooth,
the minor imperfections
are not unwanted, but reflect,
in their matt-coated manner,
that life is generally forked
with deviations from
the straight and narrow.
She strokes them all,
the tailors’ dummies,
in her mind’s eye
placing them here, then there,
in this corner, in that bay window,
eventually selecting a figure
encased in plain ticking
that reminds her of oatmeal.
She can feel the texture,
rough under her fingertips,
the mild abrasiveness
transmits a shiver
deep into her bones.
For now, this is all she needs.
A space, something to lend
a sense of scale and proportion.
Soft daylight, filtered by trees.
High ceilings.
Muted, muffled, cocooned.
Here, she will grow.
Here, she will shape her future.
Here, she will unfurl.
Gestation
*****
Freya Writes... 
i like how you work with texture here…. sounds like a good place to be… a fresh canvas that you can start painting on with the colors of your choice… keep unfurling… smiles
Thank you, Claudia. I didn’t mention a colour for my walls yet, as I’m really not sure. It will come 🙂
Gestation can be a long process but I like the idea that even though you are cautious, you are still the one who picks the color of the paint and accepts the imperfections. I hope that the place you have found allows you to grow, shape your future and unfurl.
Well, this place is very much in my head – I’ve decided that wherever it might be, there are things/aspects of it that must be non-negotiable. I’m not looking for the perfect home, just one that’s perfect for me. It doesn’t mean it has to have all mod-cons and lots of space, but it must feel like a haven. Thank you, Gabriella.
Sometimes gestation takes a while; but isn’t it great that one can have control of it yourself? Even if the walls are not smooth, they are your walls. And the texture your choice. I think in time one can grow into one’s space, finds it comfortable, and then when it is time perhaps moves on again. Perhaps to a place that is not so muted, muffled, cocooned.
Yes, this will be all about me, and what I want. Funny how it isn’t crystal clear as yet, but I know how I want it to feel. It doesn’t have to be ‘forever’, but it has to be me. Thank you, Mary.
How timely for this poetic sharing, as Spring stirs all the the things of gestation, births, blossoms, growth, change; nice working of the prompt, Freya.
Thank you, Glenn. Yes, it does fit very well with spring. It must be something in the air!
walls…such a strong word… I really like how they could symbolize so many ideas.
Thank you, Aida. It was a bit of a surprise to me, to be honest!
Oh I could feel the carfulness of recreating yourself on a new canvas.. the color and textures.. the way the light shines through.. it takes time, but what a comforting feeling…
Thank you, Bjorn. Yes, it does feel comforting. Of late, I’ve panicked that I don’t know all that I want for myself. Now I know that it doesn’t really matter. When do we ever know everything?
This is lovely Freya. I do like the way you have written this, that sense for me of waiting, expectation and hope. Very well done.
Thank you, Michael. I do feel like I’m on the cusp of things!
I like the sense of height, of soaring (or the possibility of soaring) in this poem, captured in words all conveying a sense of ‘space’ ‘high ceilings’ ‘sense of scale and proportion’. Good luck with your unfurling – as are the flowers in my garden at present…
Thank you – it does feel rather vertical! That’s goof though, going up, up, up!
Yes, I thought it might be about your change of direction.
Place is so important. It becomes a healer for ills and a comforter. The oatmeal escapes me, unless it is earlier breakfasts in good times past.
Hope you are well in your new surroundings.
Thank you, Jo-hanna. Oatmeal – nothing to do with breakfasts, just that it’s a calm, non-intrusive colour, but not stark, like white can be.
Oh, this is wonderful, such a sense of growth and beginnings and hope and survival. Lovely.
Thank you very much, Kelly.
I so enjoyed the “world” you chose to convey that anticipation and loving care–the colors, textures, a room in its natural environment. So well written.
Thank you so much, Victoria.
I love the use of colors and textures in the fingertips ~ That last stanza is so uplifting and just completes your creative title ~ So well done ~
Thank you, Grace, I really appreciate your comments.
I picture Vera Wang here. She started small sewing skating dresses for her friends and herself. Look at her studio now, and her creations! Wow.
Ooh, I could be the literary equivalent! Sewing is my second love… 🙂
Excellent use of metaphors, how the senses are defined through them. Nice analogy to survival and autonomy. xo
Thank you so much, Lorri. Survival and autonomy – yes.
Here she will unfurl – this piece seemed somewhat melancholy to me at first, but that last line really gave the feeling of hope.
Well, this transition is a combination of coming through some melancholy times over a period of a couple of years, so the hope at the end is very much as a result of surviving relatively intact! Thank you, Bryan.
Sounds like a pleasant cocoon surrounded by “soft daylight filtered through trees”…look forward to the unfurling in your poetry!
Thank you, Lynne!
i am glad in the end she has found that place where she can grow once again….i wasnt sure in the build up and when she started arranging the dummies i had a tinge of sadness but then it turned to hope….smiles.
There’s always hope, even if it isn’t the kind of hope you were, errr, hoping for! Thank you, Brian.
love the sense of hope… and your use of textures here
Thank you, kamana.
A true artist at work, the canvas ~ your life in which you nurture and grow along with the imperfections and perfections. You are unfurling.
Thank you – yes, finally, my wings/petals are showing their true colours. It’s going to be a joy.
A very well crafted poem. Unfurling is a wonderful word, too.
Thank you – yes, I was thinking about butterflies when they break out of their chrysalis.
Lovely.