Home is a place ,which extends warmth and comfort.To me my home is my first love. I love my lovely home more than my biological mother.Every nook and corner, every space in it understands me, consoles me , appreciates me ,celebrates joy with me and mourns grief with me.
A few days away from my home, makes me yearn, drives me mad, and the feeling of get away persists me to return as quick as possible.
My living room is my reading place, where I curl in my sofa,and spend time devouring books and magazines, with soft music in the background.
My dining place . is my special spot where I revel in delicacies and hot tea.
My kitchen , the cute little thing, is a platform to experiment my culinary skills. I enjoy doing simple cooking for a few hours.
My office , is where my computer is. It iis more of a friend to me, and through it I contact the outside world, I write articles. I read the daily stock market , and it is also my investing technician.
The veranda , a long one , is my gazing area. Hours are spent with simple empty watching. The traffic outside my house, keeps me engaged for some time. The cars, autos, and buses, are a distraction to me and I unnecessarily worry about the people plying up and down.
My bed room is the most beautiful place on earth. Once I enter , I lose myself. I just fall on my cosy bed, and soon slumber embraces me. My tired body and exhausted mind .find a healer in it, a refresher in its shores.
The bath makes me most eloquent. I sing out my soul, I talk aloud as if I am an orator. My latent talent gets a vent in this arena.
The garden is the best outlet for my feelings, The dangling flowers, the well mowed lawn, the huge trees, and the twittering of birds, lull me to great sublimity.
My return, to my abode, nourishes me back to welfare,and nurtures my house back to grace.
Home , My sweet home. .
Mother to me.
Passions keep us active and rolling,
Meenas Poems 