My home
A wall of bricks of brown and red
A pillow on a cozy bed
A door unlocked for guests of night
A light to read, a stove to light
A chair that rocks you back and forth
A window always facing north
A tight wood roof above your head
Or one that won't leak much instead
A plant to water and to hold
A blanket when god's breath is cold
A glass to pour some wine and drink
A tub, a faucet, and a sink
A dull knife and a copper spoon
A lucarne winking at the moon
An easel, two brushes and paint
Faint background songs, but not too faint
Three drawings on an empty wall
Colors for spring, colors for fall
An osier throne weaved just for you
A queen there sitting, a queen for two
An old door with an engraved plaque
With letters gold on matted black
"My life is you. My home is you
A kingdom, or a little shack"
posted by Fouad at 11:39 PM
8 Comments:
Very beautiful poem.
I was wondering if one of these days I can ask you if I can use one of your poems at one of my poetry readings.
:)
I cant wait to start calling this place " home" if it ever does become home
very sweet :)
with pleasure goncalo :)
"... a copper spoon"???
Thank you Fouad. I shall take the chance then.
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Oops....I deleted my previous one by accident.... :) I was saying, what a sweet poem.....
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