commodious

My castle in the air
is commodious
and glorious
with gilded fountains
flowing with unshed tears,
windows glazed with schooldays' afternoon ennui
and stone walls of grudge and bitter.
Lights of laughter
hang from ornate chandaliers
and sparkle against
mirrored mysteriousness.
Clever cornices, vaulted hopes,
and sympathetic pillars
hold up the ceiling - frescoed
with stars and dreams and wonder
in a swirly lovechild of Chagall and Van Gogh.
Gardens grow in riotous disarray -
imagination at play.
Come wander the grounds,
take a tour,
lovelier than Chatsworth,
grander than Versaille,
my refuge and escape
where all are welcome to visit -
though none may stay but I.