Home is where we sit the table <br />festooned in the joy <br />a quiet meal can mean <br /> <br />we two comfort our souls <br />while our two muffled voices buffet the air <br />blending with the candlelight. <br /> <br />Our slow night languishes <br />as we sip wine <br />smelling the rose bouquet <br />talking aimlessly; <br /> <br />more company <br />than discourse; <br />that being enough <br />for what we crave; <br /> <br />each heart <br />bathed in the reciprocity <br />deep emotions bring. <br /> <br />So here's my toast <br />to you my love; <br /> <br />you'll always have <br />this table set in this home <br />which is always here for you. <br /> <br />The home <br />which is always here; <br /> <br />in my heart.<br /><br />Lonnie Hicks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/home-137/
