
Sometimes I want to go home.
Not this house, home,
But the one I grew up in.
The family home and hearth.
The place I knew so well
It’s nooks and crannys
The garden and the tree I climbed.
The old swing and the rockery.
Doors I shut forty years ago
Creak open in my mind.
I wish I could shut my eyes and go.
See our old pets, the roses by the back door.
Dad’s motorbike, mom’s hair in rollers.
Little memories make me homesick.
I would drive there now at 2am
But a new family live there.
I feel lost.
I wish…
I miss
Home.

