My Home Is Yours To Call // Poem

 Welcome home—my home but 

Now you are its resident as well as 

I, you are my guest the moment you enter 

Through that wooden door frame my 

Home becomes yours, my food becomes 

Your food, my water is your water for when 

You have a hint of thirst, for my home will 

Provide you with its roof to cover your head, 

Its walls will shield you from the outside breeze,

The windows and curtains will protect you from 

Lurking shadows just beyond the walls, the 

Front door will always welcome you and the house 

will sing a quiet song of peace and rest 

The house will always be clean never dirty, 

Clean clothes will always fill your dresser as 

My guest will not feel like a king or queen that 

Has no clothes, your pain will become mine as 

Well as your struggles, your joy will become mine,

A joy that fills the empty space with laughter 

And memories, memories that will become pictures 

That hang on the walls, and soon those memories 

Will remind us of our good ol’ years, a house built 

On joy and not on hate, a house built of love and 

Not war, a house of peace and not chaos 

My home—is yours

My food is yours and will always be 

Served hot and fresh, water will never 

Run dry for when you thirst, the 

Fruit will always be fresh and not 

Rotten to the core, my home will 

Become your hospital for when you fall

Sick, my arms will hold you in your times 

Of trouble, my table will always receive you, 

Your bed in my home will always be yours,

My home is yours—and you will not 

Be denied or turned away but simply always 

Welcomed