Home is where you hang your hat
Until you toss it in a ring.
Some say it’s where the heart is,
But that doesn’t mean a thing
When those you love have wandered
Chasing dreams or meaningless bling.
My love is scattered to the winds
Laced by memories near and far.
A wanderer’s tender gift of wings,
Taught home is where you are.
One cannot raise free butterflies
With captured catapillars stuck in jars.
~ N. ©2013
Barnbees 