When I think, this is home

Home. As my bus drives down the road, I see bricks of red and houses of white doors of bells and knockers and windows of frost. Home. As I visit my friend's house and doze to sleep, I think what a lovely home. And when I wake up scrumptious and detectible smell, I think again what a magnificent home. Home. As I sit in my chair half dozing off in think how great this school is with all my friends the big school with three stories and windows all around. A safe place to all. And that celebrates all. Home. The place that all of us live in... Canada the home of the free the home of the fresh lakes and the luscious plants. The lights of the precious city the small restaurants with the best food. The snow that falls in winter and the flowers that bloom in spring This is home.