HOME

I’m fed up with it all, I can’t keep pretending –
my parents, my siblings, the stairs never-ending! 

I’m packing. I’m moving. That’s right, off I go
with my wristwatch and teddy and toothbrush in tow!
But this town is so crammed and it’s hard to find space,
so how will I manage to find my own place? 

But what is this wonder my eyes have just met?
The angles and curves of a long alphabet,
with nooks and crannies and spaces galore!
What other surprises does it have in store?
That’s where I’ll live. Yes, that’s where I’ll stay.
But which letter makes the best home, would you say? 

Can I live in an O? or maybe a D?
No, hang on, I’ve got it, I try out a C!
I climb in the hole and, bingo! Yipee!
A home with enough room for little old me!
And if anyone comes, the solution is clear –
turn C into O, make the door disappear! 

Or maybe I’ll go and I’ll try out an A!
A house with an attic is more than okay,
And if I get rich, then I’ll build a big tower,
turn A into Å, and I’ll stay there for hours!
And if Mum comes to nag and tell me what to do,
I’ll sneak up to my tower and relish the view. 

But what if I try to live in an E?
Not one balcony, not two, but three!
If I have enough cash, I’ll install a huge pool
right up at the top – wouldn’t that be so cool? 
And if rain starts pouring down hard from the sky,
I’ll turn E into Æ – as easy as pie! 

But who’ll get to relish my glorious view?
Or dive with me into the water so blue?
I think that the best thing might actually be
for everyone else to live right next to me
A H and an O and an M and an E 

For Mum and Dad, Kathrine, Sem Flem and me. 

But in terms of the stairs, I’ll never be free… 

Image: Erling Viksjø (1910–1971), Snippen, Luftforsvarets boliglag A/S, Oslo, 1953–54, Nasjonalmuseet. Foto: Teigens fotoatelier/DEXTRA Photo/Norsk Teknisk Museum