“My Home”

My home is not a mansion
With great paintings on the walls,
No labyrinth of ornate rooms,
No wide and stately halls.

My home is much more humble
Yet there’s none that could compare
For it houses my own children
And it knows a mother’s care.

It’s a home enriched with blessings
From a gracious Lord above,
Adorned with smiling faces
In an atmosphere of love.

A home is more than spacious rooms
So lavishly adorned,
There must be room for peace and love
Where character is formed.

Where children weave their memories,
Where happy hours are spent,
Where one can rest from honest toil
And always be content.

The world and all its money
Can’t buy what I possess.
My home is not too humble
For it houses…happiness.

1 thought on ““My Home””

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