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Ode to Home

To others you are but an empty space
Void of personality and meaning.
To me you are a canvas
Representing the mother lode of creativity.

With peeling skin in places
And leaking on occasion
With a hearth of warmth
To comfort me in times of need.

Devoid of real meaning until…
I take you in my wanting arms
And squeeze you with my might
And hear you creak at dawn’s light.

Who pulls me to her sacred breast
And feeds my soul?
When morning meets the night
Consoling me with history
and wisdom from ethereal shadows

I know and so

My humble abode I say to you with love

I’m home so not alone.
No doubt.


cc Lesley Fletcher 2012