Home Is You Poem by Mark Heathcote

Home is you.
A moment held in your arms.
In your caress
Breathing in, breathing out
Smelling your hair
This is my home.
Home is you…
The intangible
With tears welling up in my eyes,
My heart is a scrapbook of paper clippings.
Home is you…
Whatever ills or joys that is
Home is you…
And although it's not clearly defined,
Home is you…
Lord knows my search is now over.
You are truly divine.
I have to rest here.
And imagine the headline news…
This is my home.
And my home is you.
But at this moment, weighed is down with canes.
Weaved into a cage
With the door left wide open
Home is you…