Concrete, granite, stoney grey,
outside the window, any day.
Terracotta, red-brick box,
blazing, brazoned bolts and locks.
Attached together, detached alone,
standing strong, stone to stone.
Hearths and hearts, cills and souls,
turning time takes its toll.
Home is where the heart is best,
where we lay our heads to rest
Home is where we feel at peace
home is where the hearts at ease.
Homes, housing, houses, homes,
to some castles, to others tombs:
Families living, families dead,
home is where the heart is led.
© Liola Lee 2007
Categories: poetry
