Friday, February 10, 2006

He Feels Like Home

He pokes fun at me
When I’m grumpy
Until I’m laughing in spite of myself

When I’m tired
He offers to drive
But he doesn’t grab the keys away

He lets me love him
Knows what a gift is
Treasures the things that matter most

When I walk in the room
I’m the one he sees
The one he’s waiting for in the crowd

He longs to protect me
From all the hurts
While he fits my wings and sets me free

In uncertainty, he whispers
Baby, it’ll be okay
I believe him, sliding into easy dreams

In the dark of the night
He reaches for me
And it feels like home, it feels like home


At 12:27 AM, Blogger littlefeet said...

i know what this feels like...

home is such a beautiful place...


At 6:37 AM, Blogger Dick the Boomer said...

Very nice...

He's a lucky guy.

At 7:34 AM, Blogger theresa said...

Monkey - from what I know of your home, it is definitely beautiful, and perfect for you.

Dick - I don't know the guy that this poem is about. I wrote it based on qualities I love about other relationships.
I haven't met THE lucky guy yet, or if I have, I don't know it.

At 11:06 AM, Blogger Al said...

Quoting Paul Simon, 'cause I'm not good enought to come up with this stuff on my own -

"Home, where my thought's escaping
Home, where my music's playing
Home, where my love lies waiting
silently for me"

At 2:06 PM, Blogger Ed said...

Beautiful, Theresa.

At 8:15 PM, Blogger Shephard said...

Just lovely. :)
Bonnie Raitt song "Feels like Home" also.

At 10:26 PM, Blogger Steve said...

I like this a lot, Theresa! Each line says something important to me...and in many ways, I try to have these same qualities.

At 11:21 PM, Blogger theresa said...

Al - perfect, as always

Ed - Thanks

Shephard - Thanks ... Bonnie, another Hot Chik!

Steve - I believe that about you.


Post a Comment

<< Home