You win a contest to build your dream home. Draft the plans. Photographers, artists, poets: show us DREAMS.
As luck would have it my stepson invited my husband & myself to accompany him, this very morning, to the last class of his summer architecture course.
He has been attending every day for the last two weeks & today we went to see the result of his design & construction.
He is only twelve & we were both very proud to see his hard work.
HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS
What is the perfect dream home for me,
A tent or a cave, or maybe a tree?
In a cave I’d be safe from danger and cold.
With a tent I’d be home where I let it unfold.
In a tree? Let’s see! Which type would be nice?
Maybe Pecan or Olive or Cinnamon spice?
I could live like a snail in a shell of my own,
But I think I’d be sad to be always alone.
I might try to live in a vast colony,
And get myself work as an ant or a bee.
So many places to sleep and to hide,
Under a rock or riding the tide.
I might live on the wing, never touching the ground,
Or tunnel the earth, never making a sound.
The Earth is our mother, our home and our grave.
The house is a prison that makes us it’s slave.
Nature, our playground, our temple, our school.
Why trade it for greed and the dreams of a fool?
In a huge kingly palace or leant on a post,
It’s the people I love that I care for the most.
So wherever I live and wherever I roam,
One thing, always is true –
There’s no place like home.
Other Blogger’s Dreams next page …