Home sweet Poem

Door to door, wall to wall, floor to ceiling

Naming ‘home’ can leave you reeling

People come and go, faces and furniture change

Dwellings and tenants switching is nothing strange.

So what is home? Is it the territory we roam?

Perhaps the place you rest your head? Yet those are temporary.

Home is where your heart is, another phrase in an endless poem.

Dream residence? Isn’t that an honorary abode? Perhaps just monetary.

A home could be a hotel, a street corner, or hospital.

Yet, is that truly home?

Home is so much more than a residence.

The place you lay down your burdens.

Tis the place you can open your heart, and show your true colors

A place with no commitment. It’s your zone.

Home is the place your heart rests in confidence

It’s that warm feeling of cuddling Teddy after a long day

A snowy day with a book and cocoa watching the fireplace.

That picture that stings your heart, bringing smiles and tears anyway.

Home is the light in the darkness

The hope and comfort at the end of a horrible day

Where you find solace. Wherever you decompress.

To me, a convention is my escape, the home where smiles follow

Dressed in colorful clothes, with the comfort foods you eat a few times a year

The place where everyone is friendly and won’t let anyone wallow.

A convention is a place to be free, where a heart grows wings.

Silly and happy, playful and exciting, such wondrous things.

There’s always something to do, someone to see or something to hear.

A place full of surprises and friends

Once a year or several, the party never ends.

Perhaps it’s only a few days, but that is home.

A place where worries don’t matter, and emotions don’t hurt.

Home is the feather that lifts the boulders away and wipes clean the dirt.

The once a year cleanse that saves a wandering soul.

To me, a convention is the end of the road for this wandering traveler.

Second, only to a place cuddled up next to grandma

The best hugs, the kindest smiles (and the best cooking)

More food and love you can never plan on.

Tender feelings that warm the heart and wipe away the stress and strain.

In her embrace, the missing smile of grandpa lingers.

Yet their home is always full of happiness, a place to return.

Not always the same destination, but the same person.

The same gentle fingers. The same warm smile.

There are so many and so few places its difficult to discern

Home is Home

Home is there.

Home is here.

Home is the place you dream in and chase that dream through.

So right now, my home is right here with you.

Finding a new future, a new path. Plain and True.