I was asked by a friend to write about the first thing I look for when I come home. It could either be a poem or a short story. I decided on a poem.
In the gentle breath of a evening breeze
She beckons me home. Like a moth
To the flame, I have no choice but
To follow her course. Her scent in the
evening stirs my need
to remembered hours spent
within her loving shadows
Though my path may falter,
detours abound, she has
Stood as my lighthouse in dangerous waters.
I see her above all others, standing tall
Another gust, green leaves sway
the sycamore waves
my welcome home
Copyright © 2013 Glynis Rankin