Home is Where the Heart is

When I think of my home I think of my community. It may not be the place I slumber but I feel in my heart down under this is where I want to be. When I arrive on my front door steps I smell the warmth and hot cocoa boiling just so on the stove top. I hear my mother making grilled cheese what can never not please a soul when I go to my basement I hear the “tick tack” of a keyboard and my dad hears me too He works so hard I don't know what I'd do. When I return up to the main floor I see my sibling Adele with the dog they are playing fetch . The ball goes across the sky and hits the bathroom door so many times too much for the eyes to keep track of. I walk over to my art center and begin to paint a scene of my family. I paint my Mom, my Dad and Deley-doo but of course I add a little puppy too. I write everyone's names: Me, Mom, Dad, Adele and Gloria. I know some may be alone but in are heart we can still celebrate the building of a snowman and a house too in your head you may not have a home but find a friend because home is only where the heart is so hold on tight cause friends and family are always there for you to share the winter snow. When you have friends and family you’ll always have a Home.