What Home Is

Some houses are very big and strong, Doors and windows and halls that are long, Doorbells make excellent ding-dongs, But a house is not a home. Some houses are very roomy and wide, With chairs and tables and books on the side, Little nooks and places to hide, But a house is not a home. My house is very big and bright, The windows fill it up with light, Pictures and paintings make walls quite a sight, But my house is not my home. My home is a feeling and a thought. It’s made of people who love me a lot. It’s special - something that cannot be bought. My home is where I feel free. My home is a comfort and a joy, Warm meals of rice and steamed bok choy, With time to talk and laugh and enjoy, My home is where I feel safe. Sitting with you under the moon, Drawing pictures and playing a tune, I remember that party with the big balloons - My memories are my home. And though I live in a happy place, Others may live with a sad look on their face. So even if it might feel strange We open our doors to home-stays, always. So I think: Home is filled with love and peace, One strong family, someday a niece. Many people can come and roam - Everyone deserves a good home!