The boxes are all gone now
Pictures are placed upon the wall
How long will it be until I feel at home
When I walk down your hall
It seems each time I turn around
I bump into a wall
I really didn't understand
That small meant really small
You are bulging at the seams and yet
You have a certain charm
You are standing here to welcome me
To keep me free from harm
So when will you become my home
As I take a look around
Of what has always been my home
Is held within your shelter now
Soon memories will start to bloom
Within your walls so small
My treasures placed within your space
beckons with a familure call
When will I begin to feel at home
As I walk from room to room
My heart tonight is telling me
It will be very soon
Author's Notes/Comments:
Well my friends, the move is over and I am in the new apartment. It is so tiny compared to the grandeur and beauty of the house I just left behind ~ but ~ it is beginnig to feel like home. Isn't it funny that walls and space are not what makes a house a home. It is the memories, the treasures that you have lived with for years. Love of family. It is unwrapping something you can't quite remember what you may hold in your hand and finding that special something. Somehow you seem to look at it differently ~ appreciate it for what it has meant to you for all the years it has been a part of your life. It is recognized for what it is, a treasure of your past and a feeling of familiarity and comfort in what may seem to be an uncertain future. These are the things that makes you realize that when you think of returning to your new "place" at the end of a day ~ You are really returning "Home". ~Lesa~
It takes a long time for a house to become a home.
To make a space, a place, truly your own.
Happy holidays to you Lesa.
I received your email, thank you. Do write me more and tell me directly what has been going on in your life. Sorry I do not come very regular to postpoems anymore. Rarely do I read or write. Just seems like there is not much more left to say which hasn't already been said or dreamed of. Life is a paradox.
Be well, be safe.
Valerie Jochum
Lesa, I agree totally with what Amy wrote....it's not the house that makes a home but the people in the house.
I loved this piece! It reminded me of when I moved out of my own apartment (the first apartment I ever had) and moved in with Andy (into his house); it took me quite a while to feel like it was home perhaps because I was moving into someone else's home. But all is well there now as I'm sure all is well in your new home now. :)
As they say: A house does not make a home. It's the people inside that make it safe & warm.
Again, these are such lovely thoughts that put a smile on my face which I am sure will last all day.
Amy
Gentle is the night♥
congradulations on the new move......you know its not so much the memories that you miss it the ones that you will soon create....such as this new poem...."**A New Chapter"...great title by the way...this will always mean the most to you because as the time goes by you will always have something new to remember but you will always be able to go back to when you had nothing but this poem.....thats the best part...going back to the beggining...we always need the time we onces started with and if there is nothing posted to bring us back than the only thing we have is a faded past time which is only shared by your remembrance......thank you once again for sharing you new begginings with us and continue to create in you new shelter where there will be many more new experiences not only like the ones you have already experience but this time in the new place....thanks again....rs
irockpoker