WHERE HOUSE.

It was all clear iconic lines
From Swedish superstores,
And lesser object climes;
Unable to collect dust,
Or allowed to thrust,
And stuffed with trophies won from wars.

Irregular rooms and confines
Protruding from the doors,
Announcing pastimes;
Effacing older lust,
Creating new mistrust,
And roughed up a lot like before.

A large back garden of little design
Raked down towards a shore,
Unwilling to climb back;
Not able to adjust,
Improved but less robust;
A tuft of left land to anchor her.