Home

Home.
A simple word.
Encapsulating all the good,
The warmth,
The safety,
Of our world.
Bringing together thoughts,
Of food and comfort,
Joy and rest.
A place to be,
A place to dream,
Safe from,
The storms outside.
A hearth,
A stove,
A bed.
These are the simple,
Necessary this,
All else is gilding.
A hearth to draw,
The family by,
For warmth,
For light,
To tell our tales,
While seeking out,
Our inner light.
The stove,
The place to,
Offer love,
The patient’s broth,
The lover’s meal,
Born from crafted care,
And iron box.
Then bed,
To sleep,
In one another’s,
Arms and dream.
A place most precious,
Place most comforting.
This is the home,.
This is the frame,
In which to live.
This little word,
That is so much.
That,
Once we move,
From home to house,
We feel the abandonment,
Feel the loss,
And spend our days,
Trying to restore,
Ourselves,
Back to its,
Warm embrace.

D-for-dormouse

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