My House Is Not My Home
My house is not my home. I will tell you why.
My home lies far away,
above and beyond an endless azure sky.
A home without structure. Nary stone nor brick.
My home is a haven,
soothing satin and softness I dare to pick.
A home with hope and love. Joy beyond belief.
My home turns the darkness,
chasing troubles, erasing burden and grief.
A home to call my own. Never-ending peace.
My home and yours my friend,
where His purest blessings of love never cease.
A home without shutters. Absent chain or lock.
My home beckons to me,
inviting my homecoming. No need to knock.
Copyright © Linda Alice Fowler | Year Posted 2022
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