Saturday, October 19, 2013

Our Little Home

by Edgar A Guest
Eight rooms and bath, a cellar, too, a little patch of mother earth,  Above it just a stretch of blue, it makes no difference what it's worth,  t's home to me, and more and more I grow to love it every day, And when at night I pass the door, it's there I always want to stay. The furniture, perhaps, is not so fine as other folks possess,  But it's a mighty cosy spot, and shelters in our happiness;  The pictures on the walls aren't much, our tapestries aren't extra fine,  But everything I see or touch holds joy for me because it's mine. Within these unpretentious walls are love and laughter finely blent;  Rich men may have their marble halls, they cannot shut out discontent,  And were this house a mansion grand I could not any happier be,  For here I have at my command all that the world can give to me.


Patty Sumner said...

Such a wonderful description os just what a home is.....Home is where the heart is....yours is just beautiful....Blessings!

Kathy in Illinois said...

What a sweet home you have, Patty! Our home is yellow too! I love the poem. My grandmother always said to me, "Wherever you wander, wherever you roam, be happy and healthy and glad to come home!" I am praying for good news for Mei Ling.
God bless, Kathy in Illinois

Nan said...

I so love this. Edgar Guest wrote some wonderful, wonderful words.

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