Tag Archives: home

A Nothing Day by Angelina Maranesi

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A stay at home day today.
A quiet, nothing day.
I build a multilevel carpark for my cars.
Baby sister knocks it down. Arggh…..
I jump high on my trampoline to peek next door.
A kookaburra laughs.
I laugh back.
Jump, laugh, jump, laugh.
I lay on my trampoline to rest,
and make pictures from the clouds.
Dinosaur, bird, dolphin, a funny face.
I hide from baby sister in the garden.
A lizard scoots past. I chase. It’s too fast.
The trees are squawking.
I count the birds in my backyard tree.
Eighteen!
I ride my scooter
and pretend I’m travelling far away to somewhere where the action is.
Away from my quiet, nothing day.
I try to teach Leo to fetch.
I throw, he barks, I fetch.
Leo doesn’t understand the rules of the game.
Dinner tonight is my favourite, Spaghetti and meatballs.
A bubble bath and a snuggle with baby sister before bed.
My quiet, nothing day was actually really something.

from the painting TIME TO GROW by Sharon Davson

Poem of the Day

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WHO’S HOME?

by Monty Edwards

 

You will find him in your garden

Yet he’ll always be at home,

Which is strange, because he travels,

Though he never far will roam,

For his movement is quite sluggish

And he often stops to eat.

If you’re growing nice green lettuce,

He considers that a treat!

 

With his eyes on stalks like flowers,

He can find his favourite food.

Never interrupt him eating,

Or he’ll think you’re very rude!

Do not fear that he’ll attack you

As he cannot throw a punch;

He will just be feeling cranky

That you’ve spoiled his lovely lunch!

 

Since his home he carries with him,

He will never mind the rain

And if anything should scare him,

He just goes inside again!

You will look in vain for footprints

But you’ll see his silver trail.

Do you think you know his name now . . . ?

Yes, you’ve got it! . . . Mr Snail!

  • Submitted in response to Words+Pictures #5
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Poem of the Day

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A Shelter

Neridah McMullin

 

I put off going to bed,

The cloud cover,

Keeps the heat in…

And the stillness

Is oppressive.

 

Robins, wrens, honey eaters,

Panted the day away,

In shaded canopy,

Their beaks open.

Too hot to complain.

 

I open up the house,

All the doors; windows.

Something might wander in…

But hopefully,

It will wander out.

 

Thrown wide,

It’s no longer a house.

It’s a shelter,

A secret place.

A bed in the forest.

 

Under the sheets,

I listen to the night’s music.

Muted waves break,

Crickets click, ruffled feathers soften.

And at last, the birds are asleep.

Poem of the Day

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Heartland

by Irene Buckler

My home is not so much a place

Places are for others and not for me

Home is the love on my mother’s face,

A look of love that sets me free

 

My home is not the sum of stuff

My stuff adds up to nothing much

Home is a bond when times are tough,

My hand in my father’s hand, a touch

 

My home is not where I sleep at night

I rest in darkness, sleeping anywhere

Home is trust and sharing the light

And staying warm with those who care

 

My home is a memory, fading fast

Faraway whispers, remind me of when

I lived in a home, a time long past

With friends I will never meet again

 

My home is in transit; we travel alone

Towards a new life, a new land, a new start

Through spaces and places with faces unknown

My home is within me, deep in my heart.