I have a workshop where I write.
It’s a box that is warm in the winter
and cool in the summer.
Shelves cover one wall and
art adorns the sides.
A window sits but you can’t see out.
Instead the cool green of young trees filter
A sofa takes up the far wall,
but you can’t use it. It is filled with a
dog, quick to wag and smile.
On the desk
a computer, sleek and black.
A sound system beats to Radio Two and
the tapping of keys keep time.
The door is always open and the greeting warm.
This is a place of fairy tale and story.
Stay quiet long enough and you might see
a fae or troll hiding out before they are called
to take their place in the latest tale.
This poem was inspired by the daily prompt – writing space.