Home

Home is where the suitcase is

A sentence I’ve often said

And I believed it too

But my travels, in the end

All led me to you

Home is not a place

That I’ve always known

It is not four walls of stone

I’ve been looking on and on

And in the darkness, you shone

What, or who is home then?

If it is not a place

I think I finally know

Home is where you feel safe

Where love is sown

Home is on a mountain top

With your hand in mine

And your kiss on my lips

Home is in front of a warm fire

As warm chocolate we sip

Home is in your warm embrace

Your arms wrapped tight

Home is indeed where the heart is

And mine, it lies with you every night