Home. Poems - Poems about Home.

Funny how a room dies First it’s off to college Then out into the world Blink twice, there’s marriage Into the abyss,...

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We looked up to you--- When during lessons you helped us look within. Without, it'd be a confusion. Expectations, a riot of colorful thrill. You'd observe, steady and silent. Then encourage us to go ahead. Fond rememberances. Your suggestions for books hit. Like one patient, enchanted- We'd wait for you to come. Poetry and thought twined, And you turned 'Wasteland' our home. ...

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O leave your home-bound narrow world, Take to the vast dome of the world. No use just sticking to your home, See, sun and moon roam in the world. As do old leaves, flowers and fruits, Turn not to soil’s loam of the world. Look at home-bound frustrate oceans, Ground-stuck, they froth and foam in world. There’s world to learn...

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As we sit and type and stare at our screens. At times we wonder what all of this means? With our mouse we roam through poems like a maze. Looking for something worthy of our praise. We write of our hopes and tell of our woes, Most of the time, not knowing where it goes. We wait for the views and...

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Look through the trees Through the night branches Everyone sleeping Everything still. That's when I feel you, Waking and stretching Looking for me too Where would I go? I look through the trees. Through the night branches Hoping to find you See my way home. ...

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At a home for the elderly residents look like they might have been there for a century. There’s still hope for involvement if one still has good eyesight, looks, and functional “equipment.” Old age, desire, and strong hormones never sleep, at least not alone....

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I want slow mornings, bread rising in the oven, little feet padding across the floor, a Bible open beside my coffee. I want to home school my children at the kitchen table with crayons and scripture, to teach them about fractions and forgiveness in the same breath, to let wonder lead the way. I want to be the wife who lights candles at dinner, who...

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The road was rough, the path well-worn, My boots were dusted in what we mourn. I walked by the field we used to know, Where dreams were born, but failed to grow. A window glows behind a hill, A face I loved, maybe there still. But time's moved on, and so have we, After we fought - I lost the...

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~ To the Melody of "Home on the Range" ~ Home, Home of the Brains Where Scrabble is endlessly played Where seldom is heard ...

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Mother's arms reach across any distance. Your breath becomes her heartbeat. Love flows like morning light through eyes that see all of you. In your blood runs love, steady as sleep, bright as stars. Birds call your name in gardens you've never seen. Flowers wait, remembering your small hands. Old songs echo forward you inherit belonging like breath. Past, present, future the world turns...

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home four letters homely similar home run two words homesick a feeling homebody me homework glad that chapter of my life is over Homeplate oh yes! homeroom no worries homophone to, too and two...

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In my comfy corner, a little space A place of my own, as soft as a lace Lays a long chair of queen’s height with a wooden base With a rocking style for a ride at a mild pace Cushions of vibrant colours, in fitting size in the pattern of a maze Attracting all in less time, fixing attention and...

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Packing up house I do not like Much, rather fly a kite, Or go on a hike! We lived in our first home Almost forever, But in the last six years, The third and most traumatic Emotion in life, Was packing up and moving. It’s all about enduring! This home was where Our children grew up, Graduations, celebrations, Happy moments and sad Where our parents died, Where our hearts sadly...

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No center a center separates~ no-center seemingly is synonymous with autonomy's ending and a felt sense of freedom~...

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the floor’s too clean like someone scrubbed out a murder. the windows don’t show anything but a brick wall. this room might be a coffin with better furniture. he leans on the kitchen counter, flicking a lighter that won’t catch just the click, over and over, a metronome counting down to madness. i sit in the corner chair, and watch the wallpaper breathe. the fridge...

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