Where The Heart Is

Folder: 
Family & Memories

Its not any place,

built of structure and walls.

There are no doorways,

windows or halls.



Its not a building,

nor a house on a hill.

Nor a big mansion,

whose rooms you fill.



Its not a high-rise,

across the skyline.

Or a cabin in the forest,

where you idle away your time.



Its not on any map,

no directions to be told.

You won't find it in any town,

or on any certain road.



Home is where the heart is,

you furnish it with dreams.

With loved ones all around,

filling the cracks and seams.



Yes, home is where the heart is,

where your foundation is laid.

Its the sturdiest of abodes,

where you'll always be glad you stayed.

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David Richardson's picture

Cathy:
This poem is written with so much intense feelings and sincere love.The comparisons you use in this poem is so beautifully chosen-rythming is masterly done. This poem sincerly touched my heart-uplifted my spirits to an all time high for such a rainy and misty day outside. Home is definitely where the sensuous heart is. Thank you for writing such a poetic mastepiece of love and family and for sharing it with other poets.Have a very beautiful week.Take care.

Regards,
Dave Richardson
10/27/03