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Take Me Home
26 April, 2003
Author: Pamela O'Brien

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I can see candles burning
Glowing softly off the walls
And I can hear music drifting

I can see curtains flowing
Swaying gently by the window
And I can hear crickets chirping

I can feel a guitar aching
Pleading quietly to be touched
And I see the reflection of my face

I can see, feel, and hear home
Every time I turn around.

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Comments on this poem/writing:

Roy (152.163.188.167) -- Tuesday, April 29 2003, 12:44 am

Super

this is right down my street
Pamela (194.125.159.27) -- Friday, May 9 2003, 06:25 pm

Ah

This is right in my room......
 
Name:                                           Remember Me

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