Sunday, August 29, 2010

Come Home


I live in a house.
But, really, the house lives in me.
The house is me.
I am home.

To know me,
Come into my house.
Walk through my door,
You will be inside me.
You will know,
What's under my skin.

Smell my cooking,
You will feel my breath.
Touch my walls,
You will feel my heart.

My house has
It's own personality.
It talks to me, and
It laughs with you,
When it cracks.

I am on solid foundation.
I will never falter.
I will never fail.
And my house shall,
Always have an open door.

This is Mag 29. Every week we are invited to write a story, a snipped or a poem. This is my 2nd poem... I love writing these short stories. It reminds me of what I loved most of in high school, which was the creative writing our English teachers always asked of us.

13 comments:

  1. nice. there is something about inviting someone in, eating a meal together that does imply and intimacy...you took that to a new level...and i like the open door...nice magpie

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  2. are you inviting people to come inside you?
    That sounds kinda dirty, hon.

    love the poem though! Mwah!

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  3. Nice. Very nice. Dorothy was right.. there really is no place like home.

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  4. this is wonderful. Especially the last verse.

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  5. Brilliant!!! Love this. LOVED it!

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  6. I loved this poem. Mine was about making someone else my home -- I really enjoyed considering making myself my home.

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  7. So very nice - home is the heart's hangout.

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  8. I like this - you are welcoming people into your house and into your life as well. So lovely.

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  9. This was a lovely piece of writing. Home is definitely where the heart is for me.

    CJ xx

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  10. It's lovely when you are comfortable in your own house, your own skin.

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  11. Hmm. Am I as cluttered as my house? Watch your step...

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