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When I think of home with its cozy nooks
With its winding paths and its babbling brooks,
I think of loved ones with whom I share
And wile away the hours in an easy chair,
Of perhaps, a window o’er looking the west
Where one can dream dreams when his heart’s at rest.

Where loved ones love and understand
And ever reach forth with a helping hand.
And the porch on a quiet afternoon
Where needles work to a little tune.
A book or two, and a cup of tea
Alone perhaps or with company.
While sunbeams play at hide and seek
Through the honeysuckle vine that conceals the street.

A little spin o’er dale and hill
Past lonely farms and an old saw mill,
A lovely walk in the twilight dim
When purple shadows creep softly in
And as the stars begin to peep
A loving kiss and peaceful sleep.

Copyright ©2004 Helen Stoney McDaniel
Submitted for Helen by her nephew, Robert Campbell of Millbury, Massachusetts. Helen lives in Gainesvile, Florida