Home

Home is a dim, half remembered thought, Like a quest of old, by knights long sought. That humanity, for an ideal, furiously fought. Home only a dim and faded dream, Like leaves carried rapidly by a stream. That bring to mind, memories, so serene. Home a place to finally rest my weary feet, And under that old live oak, take a shady seat. And at last, finally, once more feel complete. Home is where my heart should be, I hope it went there, when I set it free. I pray that it's there, wating for me. 6/14/10 29 palms ca.