In Winter's Storm (there is no place like home)

 Nothing like a winter storm to rekindle thankfulness for home!

Here winks the lure of friendly fireside

Cheering the labor’r toward eventide

Here, with loved ones to gather and to sup

Fruit of love’s labor filling plate and cup

Here the tea kettle, while centuries wing

Pours fresh-steeped comfort for pauper and king

Here, like a haven while wild wind-beasts brawl

Home in winter’s storm, is sweetest of all

Here wish-lists dwindle, snuggly satisfied

With hugs and slippers, while the countryside

Is tossed, lost in white brumal gusting swell

As Old Man Winter pummels hill and dell

…and we, borne on parchment catamaran

Sail into ancient worlds and back again

Where no matter how fair the climes we roam

Nothing compares to winter’s home-sweet-home

Here happiness is like a warm handshake

A steaming ‘cup o’ and a bite o’ cake

Here hobbies are like mini getaways

Here mother sometimes pauses work and plays

Here we have nowhere else we’d rather be

Than watching birds flit from feeder to tree

And wrangling thankfulness into a poem

As we thank God for winter’s home, sweet home

Here beckons the gold halo of lamplight

Here little tots are tucked in extra tight

And all is quiet save the howling gale

That overflows contentment’s hallowed grail

That crackles and pops as flame-dancers leap

And book soft-plops as reader falls asleep

Lulled by the lays that rake the leafless loam

While kindling thankful praise for home, sweet home

© Janet Martin