Going Home Poems | Examples

These Going Home poems are examples of Home poems about Going. These are the best examples of Home Going poems written by international poets.


Premium MemberThe Last Page Was-Is Missing?

I love old book stores. The smell and look of old books, sets my heart a pumping. At home I have my favorite stops, checking out each shelf carefully. When I travel, I look up stores before I leave home. My list can be short or long, with a book or two or three following me home. This summer I found an old book, a book jumped into my shopping cart saying, please take me home. I have been reading on and off for weeks, last night I got to the end. I could not wait to see what was going to happen, The Last Page Was missing.


Premium MemberI Go Home

I GO HOME


I can be heard saying to myself whose on the shelf
Home, I go and home I will stay even if on a bale
eating a scone that was made with stone ground flour
                              unless summoned

Can’t imagine having ice cream on a cold wet day
even if going astray at the bay with a sleigh that’s
painted grey especially when I pray to find my way
Walking through the woods regardless of any goods
© John Long  Create an image from this poem.

Premium MemberLonging for My Home

Inspired by the Black Cat Moan song of Glenn Hughes

Like a black cat moaning,
      I long for my home,
for once I get back there,
    never again shall I roam.

My sun is going down
     down down to the ground.
Sky is illuminated
       and I sit without a sound.

I look at that sun
     and sky the crimson of
the blood of my sweet Jesus,
     yearning for His love.

I’m moaning on the inside,
     but I’m not afraid to die.
 I want to bathe in light divine.
     May I vanish into sky!

I need to slide behind yon hill
   with the sun that had me awed.
Sun, though you sustain all life,
   you shine not as bright as my God.

Premium Member- Miss Gunda -


Gunda is a robot vacuum cleaner
a skilful dust gleaner

makes no sound
just going round and round

Premium MemberGoing Home

Moving down along the way, going home
Passing houses and streets where I roamed
Here was the Clover shop, there were
Molly Gwinn’s, Saxon Parole, Hound and Hare
And so many more of spots I used to know
Gone to dust a rather long time ago
There’s no home without you, darling love
But I’m talking to your photograph
Over the hills of green, far away
I keep moving along day by day 
The illusion I’m through sets me free
If I’m real or not makes no diff for me
Home is where my heart is and vice versa
Any order of words brings the mercy.


Premium MemberHome

2 My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? 3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. 4 You know the way to the place where I am going.”

John 14:2-4

Home

Eternity awaits
My home will be with the Father forever
Old worries and troubles will be no more as
Heaven will be my permanent residence

Premium MemberGoing home

Nothing's changed in my hometown except me

Premium MemberGoing Home

Trapped in the past, I bring it to the present
The chemicals mutate inside of me
I’m moving backwards to the sea and sand,
According to the fate I cannot flee
The little problem hides in mutual recognition
Our ignorance is woven into stilled 
Bleak tapestry, but I revise the late edition
Untangling the decrepit threads, I’m thrilled
To tell you, love, that we’ll be here one day
But to rejoin our paths from present seems a bit
Unrealistic, so I’m working out the way
As it was stitched, and it’ll be a perfect fit.

Premium MemberHome On A Hill

It is a desolate area
Surrounded by hills
And a high but steep dirt road
There are barren trees of different sizes
But the house is above the road with bushes
Hard to see at the very top of the dirt road

On a windy day there are little dust storms
The dirt flies everywhere but up to the house
But no mice or rats because there is hot sauce 
And baking soda all around the exterior of the house
Anything that falls goes no further than the dirt road

In winter the house gets what snow that the trees do not
But not much mud because it is on its own hill
And none of surrounding hills are close enough to throw any
The only noise is from the sky when an occasional air crat flies by-
Every car goes slow enough to avoid going over the cliff
© John Long  Create an image from this poem.

Premium MemberEvil has a home and all of Evil is going to its Home in Hell

 Evil is going to its "Home and it is called "Hell"!Here is the truth! Do you mis-use love when it is given to you? if you do-------you are on your way to "Hell for certain"!

Premium MemberThrough the Woods

Strawberry red skies when home beckons through sage woods Pink love's going down as dewdrops on purple rose prior to the velvet close Flowers follow me their fantasy fragrances recalling burnt gold Beauty's dying once again in throes of rapture and pain

Premium MemberGoing Home

Someone who holds a chunk of my heart
Is going to her heavenly home soon
She will be safe in Jesus' arms
and completely healed
But my heart already throbs
With the loss of a beautiful person
In my world.

Premium Memberchoosing to stay home

traffic is traveling in all directions
I do not miss the frantic feel of driving
the stress of wondering
when they are going to kill me

every car a potential bullet
large and mean
discourteous and rude
choosing to stay home is an easy choice

Premium Memberonstage, i want to turn to the band and say 'take me home, daddy'

it would be a last request, before the gallows
like baloo sings it 
i'm being led there, the narrow path between the
faces of the people
my hands tied behind my back
the rope taut against the skin
and i'm going,
de-zop-ba-ronie
hap-da-dee-ba-lat
da-dat-dat-non
hey, a-baby-dot-doo
zaba-doo-doo-day-doo-bop
doo-boo-doo-day, ze-bonz
za-bop-bop-bobby  

we arrive
i turn to the hooded executioner.
'take me home, daddy.'

Premium MemberGoing Home - Abracadabra

My heart strokes the strings of memories, utterly sublime. Alpine trees echo enticing chants to welcome me there. Whirling in spirited hurry, now free from all worry. Anticipation is engrossing my mind, before time. There is magnetism in the alp's compassionate embrace. I am bound for paradise, such a splendid upward climb. Wanderlust cured, no more will I roam from my mountain home. The alps bringing peace and security, as church bells chime. Exiled no more, I return to breathe each breath of fresh air. Now free from all worry, whirling in spirited hurry. Blessed by God, I'm back to my mountain home with snow and rime.*

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace