Home is made of walls, ceiling and floors,
just like a building, but more decorated
with love and with joys,
It is where we find our little ones and bibs,
and somewhere out there,are crayons and toys.
Home has furnitures and colorful things,
they are all piled up, beautifully arranged,
flowers abound, knick knacks and bows,
and somewhere out there, are our hubbys too.
Home is where you hear him say, dear, how was your
day, and are you hungry too?
Home is where your bittersweet memory remains when
you come home alone.
And home is where you stay, when every one has moved on.
Excellent description of home...
Home is where the heart is...
Home is where the heart stays...
agreed...very sweet poem of
home...