This Cinderelly Nonsense

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

Home is where the heart is, they say,

They who are not me or you or anyone we know

Yet I think they got it right, just a little right this time.


Home is where the hearth is, you say, joking,

While the flames lick warm orange around us

And I think there must, there surely must be magic in these slippers.


Home is where the heart’s hearth smoulders.

That space where you curl up, a sleepy comma on my chest,

While I think, “ach there’s no place, there is no place so sweet”

Share this: