Author Information
HOME
Folder:
A YOUNG POET Home is where one rushes to,
When day is over, and work
is thru,
You're met at the door, by a
warm embrace,
A gentle kiss, loving face,
Someone smiling to welcome,
you in,
You'll be reluctant to leave
again.
copyright heather burns
True to most people, but when you live alone, it is a dwelling just to rest our tired body and bones, listen to the music and remember the times when he was by my side to say, how was your day, hon?....and in the silence of my home, it becomes a bittersweet memory.