There is a place that cannot be replaced, no matter what
And nothing else can equal it, for all else we might boast
A stumble-humble haven where we love and laugh a lot
And those who do not have it hunger after it the most
To those who pass by, it may seem quite average at best
A box of wood and mortar with windows, a door and such
But those who live inside it find food, friendship, favor,
rest
And Something that cannot be snared in the grasping of touch
(love)
Perhaps it holds a flower or a book of poetry
A pot of soup, a garden, quilted this and that, children
To each its own small splashes of familiarity
Call to us from far, far away and draw us back again
In summer crickets serenade the happy hours there
Where we are oft oblivious to Father Time's caress
While seasons pass like picture-shows, a blend of calm and care
And thankful prayer to He who grants its wholesome happiness
Here we remove the vain veneer we might wear to gain worth
From those who don't know us as well as they who dwell here do
Here we are quite ourselves like nowhere else on God's green earth
'Kick off your shoes, put up your feet and sit a spell or two'
There is a place that cannot be replaced, no matter what
Its blessing quite unrivaled in earth's vast and goodly sum
Without it nothing else we earn could fill its tender spot
It is the grace of a dear place that we call simply, home
© Janet Martin
