MY HOME, MY PRECIOUS HOME

 

MY HOME, MY PRECIOUS HOME

Oh my home, my precious home, filled with memories of love, quarrels, plans, laughter, music, singing and dancing, and celebrations of marriages and the birth of children.

How we have treasured you, from the moment we first found you as newlyweds,

Changing your interior as we could afford to, with a family expanding.

Now I am left huddled in a ruin, with you buried in the garden,

With our children scattered for safety in other lands.

Taking most of my heart with you all; even the birds have deserted us.

Only the dog and I remain cringing, giving courage and comfort to one another as bombs and missiles rain around us.

Today, we left together for essential food and water and our weekly meeting of other poor souls.

On our return: oh house! You were no longer standing, smashed to smithereens; the shock was total.

I cried and cried, wandering amongst the ruins, searching, with the dog howling and whining too in bewilderment.

Who could hate us this much and why? I have never been one to hate, yet I do now.

I hate the unseen manipulators of war who stay warm and clean,

Who send troops to roam the world, demolishing whole villages and cities, scattering and splitting the populations, in some cases forever,

Leaving wasteland and emptiness behind.

Oh house, my precious home, I never thought we would part this way. 

I hoped in the fullness of time and with age to just drift off beneath your roof.

Now I have to search and take what I can for the dog and me; not much, as I am too old to carry much.

We say goodbye to my love’s grave in the garden and walk away from you in despair, into the unknown,

The two of us, hoping to meet with kindness, friendship, family and somewhere to collectively call home.

2023 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License