I have not been posting for the past week – it has been an unusually busy week and somehow have been exhausted as well – but now, my blog muse has taken over my exhaustion 🙂 and here I am again.
Today, for DVERSE Poets’ Pub whose prompt today is the ‘Place We Live in’. . hopefully just in time before Mr.Linky expires..
Also for Sunday Whirl.(First instant snare ride gasps dust slap blue unbalance
deserves wings blessed), and for Sunday Scribblings (moment)
deserves wings blessed), and for Sunday Scribblings (moment)
The first instant I landed here
The ride home on empty highways
unbalanced me, I fear
Endless blue skies overhead,
They looked like the same back home
So this place deserves a chance, I said.
Said hello, the next morning,
To the dust bunnies by the window
flying on invisible wings.
(I heard their silent gasps as they replied)
It loosened – the snare of melancholy ,
That moment – like a
slap of downer on my joy,
slap of downer on my joy,
It passed, very soon, blessedly!
Today, over a decade later, I know this to be true
Home is where the heart(h) is..For me (and am sure also for you!)
dunno…i always find it's frightening and holy when coming to a new place…the melancholy… so felt..the having to settle in practically and emotionally.. i like the saying hello to the dust bunnies by the window.. getting acquainted..seeing the good and ugly..coming to a new place always does both to me..it wrecks me and thrills me…smiles
thank you Claudia for your comments always ..
ha…the dust bunnies on invisible wings is a cool touch….home is where the heart(h) is…yes…it is where those i love are…so that can be many a place for me…
thank you Brian.. yes, what you say is true, you just need loved ones around to make any place feel like home
Nicely said, yes, moving can be intimidating not knowing what things will be like. I too like the dust bunnies on wings. Very visual. Thanks for joining us.
Pamela
thank you Pamela.. dust bunnies have always fascinated me for as far back as I can remember…and they seem to find their way into many a poem.:)
Yes, home is where the heart is! And the tummy guides it back home all the time. I never can forget what I can eat at home, Mom's or the good wife's. Nicely Lady!
Hank
Hank, 🙂 your comments always bring a smile on my face.. thank you