Slow, careful steps, to the front door.
That mystical emotion behind the blinds to sanctuary.
Wild, riveting looks appear through swaying curtains,
And the door, creaks open just a crack,
Revealing smiles and joyous voices,
Recieved by a quiet smile and sealed with a hug.
Comfort is deployed with easy, delicate hands and furthermore,
Welcoming arms.
The bed is made with the softest quilt,
And sheets knitted from clouds.
This lingering smell of home,
And dreams, never filled the heart, like so.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like the sense of home I get from this poem. I like when you talk about home being a sanctuary.