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Our family at home.

what home means to me..

By Donna BolchPublished 3 years ago Updated 3 years ago 1 min read

I hear clicking keys in our son's room,

and laughter comes from our daughters,

the sound of the car in the drive,

means my husband is back from works slaughter.

The crack of the lid as i open the wine,

then the plop ,plop .plop ,as it pours in the glasses,

we sit on the couch to relax and unwind,

and hear about our daughter's classes.

My husband goes out to collect the wood,

i screw up the paper,

the fire is lit and burns as it should,

and we do the quiz in the newspaper.

Google home sounds the alarm,

dinner is ready to be served.

We go to the table, arm in arm

and eat together ,while talking absurd.

After dinner we scatter to our habitual places,

all in front of a different screen,

we dont look at each others faces,

and are never to be seen.

Our lives are filled with technology,

it is our new normal.

It is not the human psycology,

but at least at dinner it was formal.

I climb into bed, and pain makes me say ouch.

then i watch netflix ,stan, you tube or prime.

My husband falls asleep on the couch,

and i miss him cuddling up next to me some of the time.

I pull my doona up and snuggle down,

then close my eyes to fall asleep,

and think of life after lockdown,

to making memories that i want to keep.

love poems

About the Creator

Donna Bolch

i am the very proud mother of two incredible humans,and the wife of a wonderful husband of more than 20 years,.

i suffer from fibromyalgia and functional neurological disorder.

I love photography, and reaching my goals.

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