Two Faces of Homes

I’m from the winds, and breezes that dance through the trees;

From dirts so dark stains lived on for weeks.

I’m from the fields of glory, and gardens of gold

(like vines and rose bushes continuing to grow).

I’m from spindles of thread, and singing ivory keys,

From flowers waving sweetly to hard-working bees;

I’m From orchestras of waters, whose music captures,

That transfers to places full of enraptures;

enchanting the imagination that paints who I am.

I’m from the creaking cracked crumbling floors,

From C and V whose faith I adore.

I’m from La musique and amor,

from the strained stitches she wore.

I’m from the “Once upon a times,” and “Long long agos,”

from the “welcome come ins” the “Hi and hellos.”

I’m from the pocket eaters and colossal bills;

From savers  and  immense rocky hills.

I’m from shining shimmering sparkling walls,

From S and B of constant brawls.

I’m from silver and paper to much for shares,

From the “good enoughs” and “watch what you wears.”

I’m from the “shalls not speak out of line,”

From the “God is good ALL the time”

I’m from warm smiles and caring hate,

From the never ever up past eight.

With my arms open wide I stand between;

Two faces of homes only I have seen.

To my left stands love of only myself;

To the right stands love of everyone else.