David Harris (18 June 1945 / Bradfield, England)
On those days when clouds hang low
and rainclouds threaten a downpour
you seek the warmth of your cosy nest
where the warm air swirls around you
with a comforting glow.
The sky might be dark with gloom,
but that doesn’t penetrate your soul
while you’re in the warmth
of your cosy nest’s glow.
Home is where the heart is
and the place you’re glad to be,
come scorching sun or winter’s snow.
The nest you made to raise your brood,
the shelter from the world,
the place where love lies never to leave.
1 January 2014
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