Seconde BFI - Poems about home 2/4
Home, the heart of our solace.
Home, the heart of our solace,
Where love resides and peace reigns. With each step, memories unfold,
The walls, the floors, they whisper tales.
The creaky stairs and rusty doorknobs,
Remind us of the past and the present,
Furniture with its unique character,
And windows that let light in.
The fireplace, where stories are shared,
And the kitchen, where scents fill the air,
A place where we rest and rejuvenate,
And seek refuge from life's wear and tear.
Home, a sanctuary that we cherish,
Where laughter echoes and tears are shed,
A place where we find our true selves,
And our souls feel nourished and fed.
In this space, we find ourselves again,
And the love we share is all that we need,
Home, our eternal abode,
Where we plant our roots and our dreams succeed.
Where are you Home ?
Home is a place,
Or something else,
Where you can rest,
Where you feel safe !
Home is a part of you,
It is like a mirror of your personality,
It is full of memory,
It looks like you !
Home is a place we shaped,
It became us,
It is our private heaven,
We created our home !
Home is full of life,
Like a vibrant creature,
Young and pure,
Or nostalgic and sad !
Control.
I don’t have to think about how you perceive me
You make me feel so comfortable,
You will never disturb me
Because you know to follow the timetable
Nothing you do is sudden,
All of it I understand
[Though that is only when I am alone here.]
You will make disappear the burden
That would otherwise command
You are rather messy
One could say you always have been,
Although that is no bother to me:
There is no need to be pristine
You are the absence of sound
In this world that won’t stop talking
[Though this stillness tends to disappear.]
In you I compound
All that my mind is thinking
Fur and flames
See the sheep shimmering shyly in the shade,
Hear some faint hissing, some sizzling sound
Thorough thumping through threatening thirsty thorns
Foul ferret, fiercely feasting on fish
Taking trips, trenches to trees, taunting and tasting together,
Picking pears and plums, pounding pickles and pepper.
Foolish ferret, give me a glance, leave me a look
across the street
Open your eyes and let me show you
What needs to be shown, what deeds to be done.
Regard my residence, rumbling, roasting in radiant red,
Vandalised, vaporising, vanishing
Gallons gushing, gurgling, engraving great graves.
The damp domicile stands, defeated, draped in dust, dead.
We wandered away, with wistful waves.
Flustered ferret, I envy you
For my home burnt down this summer.
Foster me, I implore you,
For I have to survive through winter
With no trees or trenches, no pickles or pepper.
( title ) Only to me
It was a place,
A place of slow pace,
That used to sound like a soft song,
Sung through summer solstice.
It is a feeling,
I am forever finding
Through mellow and mourning tears.
A feeling, eternally embracing me
It will be anything, anywhere,
A place, a feeling,
Irregular as my youthful heart beating,
Only to me, it will be everything.