the magic house

this room is full of funny magic things
birds made of corn, bronze candlesticks, a broom,
bells, painted drums, lamps with hidden genies
a broken mirror up above the fire,
spells, a golden egg and seashells, boxes
with locked lids in hidden corners, darkened
secret nooks, far from the big wide window,
piled dusty books too high to reach and read
not that i could read them anyway, not yet,
but I’m not scared, no fears, I like it here
i poke about and no-one bothers me
i wear jewellery and eastern slippers
they’re red, the toes have points, curling over
i think Aladdin came to visit once
no one in my family denied it
or maybe it was Sinbad, the brave sailor
because i saw an anchor in the garden
by the roses where the blackbird sings