Shelter
My home is a place
where doors latch, the dog
barks and cat scratches.
A place where radio
sings and NPR spews
news, where eggs scramble
in an iron pan and coffee
scents the morning air. My home
is a place where the light
fades at dusk and lamps warm
the evening, where paintings
come alive and creations
animate with Spirit.
My home is a place where
we meet, confer and tangle,
reaching into each other's heart
like a calm lake contrasting
against dramatic spring sky.
Nancy Canyon
My home is a place
where doors latch, the dog
barks and cat scratches.
A place where radio
sings and NPR spews
news, where eggs scramble
in an iron pan and coffee
scents the morning air. My home
is a place where the light
fades at dusk and lamps warm
the evening, where paintings
come alive and creations
animate with Spirit.
My home is a place where
we meet, confer and tangle,
reaching into each other's heart
like a calm lake contrasting
against dramatic spring sky.
Nancy Canyon
2 comments:
Your home sounds like a comfy shelter. Enjoying reading your poems, Nancy.
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