My Place
Small, not quaint, but full of charm, It’s home to me, no great barn, Brickwork’s not good, but who’s to care, Place is mine, I don’t share Feelings here come through with grace, No palace you see, just a homely place, Lives gone by within it’s walls, But good ones, I know, I feel them all. No raised hackles here, when I walk in, Just peace, serene, but a living thing, Wraps warmth around me, holds me tight, No fears for me in the dead of night. Trade it up? No thanks, not me, This place is where I’m meant to be, My home, my sanctum, my English castle, Wrapped up though in a tiny parcel.2002-03-09, Written April 12th, 2002 © on Apr 11 2002 07:38 PM PST 18 • 0 • 13
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"Small, not quaint, but full of charm,..."