Meaning of Home

Every Saturday morning when I was with my mom She would make french toast So it would be ready By the time I wake up When I am in my bed I can only hear the sound Of my mom running around To get things done Making sure nothing is burnt I get up and Get ready for the day I go out of my room She gives me the plate ‘’What do you want on the toast?’’ she asks Whip cream Some fruits And chocolate chips I grab my plate Go to the table Sit down Grab my fork and knife As I put it in my month I get this taste This amazing taste in my month. Whip cream Some fruits And chocolate chips So many flavors I can see rainbows ‘’How is it?’’ she asked ‘’It's great thanks’’ I replied The tastes of home