A Butcher, A Baker
there is no place like home
plantains dip
prehistoric palms whipping
season’s gold fishes swimming in a fountain tub’s bubble
dogs mixing basking
with barking brown squirrels up oak trees in the sun for fun
sounds of the tower’s bells on the hours
and past time
rumble of earths under groove trains’ wheels ribs me
what a home in fall to be becoming
to know this home depends on me
yet nothing at all I can do
as it slips through my fragile fingers
as all things will
ever I know of love has always shown his opposite face
a channel wide
a park squared inter a circle
a nod
and all that matters
is someone to call home
When You Were Mine 
really good with your writing
Love You Joy Happy 2013!
much love
Great job
;x
I’m confused about the title but I love the poem. I would love to have some background on your writing. I know you write about love but is it from current experience? Do you reflect on past experience? I guess all if it! Also I think your wording is cryptic and somewhat lyrical as there are some lines i enjoy reading over and over. great stuff!
i am really really in love with you
My face is numb
Never mind you always write a tounge twister. I enjoy trying to figure you out. Helps me figure out myself