Elia Michael


Home


I want to go home
To roam and to roam
My village’s streets
And lovely retreats

Where the windows glint
And you have to squint
Your eyes from the light
The sun is so bright

I want to go home
And see the white foam
Bobbing on the sea
So rhythmically

I want to go home
Not Paris or Rome
But Xylophagou
(My village to you)

It’s where I was born
But I do feel torn
I love it here too
Yes really I do

But I will go home
To the polychrome
Flowers in the sun
And to hours of fun

Submitted: Saturday, February 22, 2014
Edited: Sunday, March 09, 2014

Topic of this poem: holiday


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