Mary Daly

Dromintee, Ireland

Home

Home is such a little word,
Which covers such a lot,
From the old man in his easy chair,
To the baby in his cot.
It doesn't have to be a place,
Of antiques, gold or splendor,
Just a simple little cottage,
Full of joy, and truth, and candour.
Where from understanding parents,
You learn, the right from wrong.
Where you are taught to be upstanding.
And grow up brave and strong.
Home is where you learn to share,
And respect your fellow man,
To see each others point of view,
And be as tolerant as you can.
It is a place of love and laughter,
Of grumbles, frowns and tears.
But no place else, in all this world,
Can you spend such happy years.
Its a place you are always welcome to,
No matter how you are,
It will put its arms around you,
For home means love and care.
A meeting place of families,
Where you don't have to pretend,
Where you never feel a stranger,
And you are welcome to the end.
So boys and girls, if you have strayed,
And on the street do roam,
Kind and anxious parents,
Are calling out come home,
To a place where you will find peace of mind,
And you will never walk alone,
For you are very very special,
In your own home sweet home.
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