It’s Home
red sweater Aunty Joyce with her friends It’s Home
You can play in it,
sing in it,
have ten fits a day in it.
It’s Home
Cry in it,
sleep in it,
you could possibly keep sheep in it.
It’s home
Walk around quite bare in it,
have someone there to share in it,
laugh when no-one’s there in it.
It’s home
Dance the Highland Fling in it,
hang upside down in it,
stick pictures on the wall in it.
It’s home
Have a midnight feast in it,
act just like a beast in it,
scream until you’re hoarse in it.
It’s home
Soak hours in the bath in it,
sing out loud offkey in it,
dress up outrageous and shout ‘look at me’ in it.
It’s home
This lovely poem about ‘what can happen in a home’ was sent to me by a reader who’s dear Aunty Joyce, “who was a very artsy and free spirited woman who definitely lived her life to the fullest”, wrote shortly before leaving her home.
Life Coaching with Ruth
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