Now is my time
Now is my chance, my time.
No more yearning and giving in for peace,
Succumbing to pressure to avoid disappointing
Your cherished dream.
Did I feel stymied, petrified by your persuasion?
It seemed unfair to deny you a final adventure
When I would have my time beyond yours.
Now I stand at the apex of my desires
Ready to make my mark
Create my vision through my decision
Old or new green or blue
I eschew suggestions and digest them.
Asleep and dreaming I inspect, decipher and reject 
Hold the precious, keep the fine and loved. Align them,
Redesign and move around bits and pieces newly 
Unearthed from boxes closed for years.
These now delight my days
Beauty blooms in rediscovered vases
Fresh polished silver gleams
Water ripples in the sink now ever clean
I view the garden while I eat from a repositioned chair.
Listening to my inner voice I take possession of the house
No longer ours but mine.

This poem is due to be published in A Blue Shirt, a collection of poems by Fran Johnson.

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