“Home; fireside”

Kneel down,

Towards my warmth.

Run your fingers,

Down my spine.

Trace my arches

And fall asleep

To my lullaby.

 

Remeber days come

To pass;

Morish soups and bread

Made by your mammy,

Stories of princesses and paupers

Read by your granny,

A summer hiding place

From your rascally brothers,

And bandaged knees and kisses

From your Pa’Pa.

I am hearth,

I am home,

I am here for you

When you are cold

And all alone.