home

home is seashells wading in the salty water/its the trembling hands that crave his touch/and the clouds that readily cover the sun/home is trees dancing with the swirly wind/its the toes that curl on a warm day/and the birds that sing with the rising sun/home is dirt roads being layered with cold snow/its the stargazed eyes that watch her dimples/and the leaves that sleep on the earth/home is baby turtles crawling out to sea/its the rosy red cheeks that appear when he arrives/and the vines that engulf empty rooms/home is water rushing over smooth rocks/its the fingers that dance up and down her back/and the crickets that sing when the moon shines through/home is moss climbing up mountains/its the legs that intertwine his/and the rain that drops on closed up dandelions/home is a brick house sitting round the corner/its the laughs that flow through the kitchen walls/and its the nature that sings outside the door/