The walls of stone the panes of glass on the window protect me from the storm. As I lie snug in my bed listening to the wind whistle and watching
The lightning glow. I wake up in the morning safe and snug while others struggle around the globe. We all know deep down in our hearts that home isn’t just a house it’s a place of love, struggle and sacrifice. It’s a place of hope and memory. It’s a place where you can be yourself.
But most importantly it’s a place we call home. That’s what home means to me hopefully that’s what it means to you. you don’t have to run or hide it’s your safe place. From the dead of winter to the blossom of the flowers
You can always call it home and home can call you you. I wouldn’t trade it for the world would you? I hope not because home always remembers you. Home I love you.