Home is a place to be
ones own
the caricuture of future plannings
and too busy days falls
into an abyss
as the doorway
opens into the dwelling of ones own peace
A shelter
A sanctity
A private space
Only known and seen by loved ones
Family
What is sent from home is chosen
By the occupant
No need to front
I won’t engage in debate
Over heated controversy
That had no place
In the dwelling of my own personal space.
Flowers
And dancing so hard
It’s rattling bones
Stirring ghosts
A quirk
A morbid twist
A phone call
A Hopeful
Dialogue
And a teasing saint
Blaring on the tv
as the mute button
is never found soon enough.
About the Creator
Melissa Eaves
I am an freelance writer. I love the written word and the poetry of my soul is expressed by mastery of it.
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