My fingers trace the familiar. The stillness of the house The quiet of my heart Tenderness in your eyes. The blessings of this life The comforts we take for granted. Slipping into those crisp white sheets The scent of the Texas winds beneath my head. I am home. *Copyright (C) 2019 Penny Wilson
12 thoughts on “The Little Things”
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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Thank you, Chuck!! ❤
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Scent of the Texas winds… beautiful 😊
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Thank you, Jess!! ❤
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Nothing quite like home, is there?
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That’s for sure! Thank you for the visit! 🙂
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Gorgeous words
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Thank you!!
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This was tender and beautiful.
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Thank you! 🙂
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Sometimes it takes leaving for awhile to appreciate home. Beautiful poem, Penny. Welcome home.
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Thank you, Sweet Lady! I’ve missed you and my other friends here! ❤
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