To The Lighted House'Five hundred pounds a year
And a room of ones' own'
Was Virginia Woolfs’
recipe for happiness.
Then she saw the small ads
For rooms among the Spires
Worthy of writers.
Five hundred pounds a month,
(excl, and broadband extra)
Filled her pockets with stones
And walked into the nearest river.
Perhaps God had a room going
In one of his many mansions
A little bit cheaper…
© LS King 2006
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