Gentle Arms

They reach through the chill-autumn dusk

Warm arms drawing me in

To love where home-fires grin

Bulwark in life’s billow brusque

Beacon of gentle glow

Spills to the atmosphere

Urging its loved ones near

Orange circles on the snow

With eager hearts we perceive

The welcome in its smile

Knowing we can rest awhile

Out of the chill-autumn eve

They reach from familiar berth

And eagerly we come

To those beautiful lights of Home

And our little heavens-on-earth

Someday the lights of Home

Will lift us from this dirt

Away from life’s temporal hurt

As we cry, ‘Lord, I come’

© Janet Martin

I was struck by their welcome as I came home last night...
The picture is from my archives again; my camera isn't working;(