WHISPERING, HOME

The wind in the trees is whispering, home.
As we walk hand in hand along the lake
The waves quietly calling, whispering, home.
The birds echo the call, still, whispering, home.
Family who are all miles away are whispering us home,
The wind in their trees are whispering us home.
For home is where we want to be with all the family
And every sweet sound of nature is whispering, home.
For where ever you may wander, where ever you may roam,
If you have a loving family, every sound is whispering, home.
For when we are together the voices whispering, home,
Fill your heart with gladness, for you are whispering, home.
For that is where you are at last, that where you want to be,
And hope that what ever happens someone is whispering, home.

M Ann Margetson April 2 1998 ©
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