19 Oct 2010


After 30 years my wife and I are moving house, since my stroke my wife has had to manage all the chores which included outside chores. Gardening, mowing keeping the front and backyard tidy.

An opportunity to move to a smaller more managable home came up and we jumped at it. It's a two bedroom unit with an easy care garden and a more modern and efficient home.

Our garden will be our greatest loss, however we are looking forward to a new challenge. At our age we are fortunate to have new challenges and no doubt we will meet new people which is always a plus.

All we have to do now is turn our new abode into a HOME.

The thought of leaving caused me to think about what a home is, so I penned this short poem I hope it means something to most of you.


It's only when we leave it
That we ever really know
Just what it is to have a home
Somewhere safe to go

It's a bit like it's a mother
The feeling of warmth you get
When you snuggle up in bed
In the night if you wake you know
Your in a home, you belong

Over the years if it had ears
It's heard the crying and the laughs
The noise of wind, sound of storms

If it could feel would it know
When it was night, when it was day
If it was sunny, frosty or driving rain
Would it know we keep the garden neat
Trim the trees and cut the grass

If it could see us leaving
Would it remember all the good times
Fresh paint we gave it now and then
The fires we lit to keep it warm
Cleaning windows sweeping paths

I wonder will it miss us very much
Or will it open it's doors
Make another family a new home
Then it will see it all over again

The children growing, then go away
The parents they get older
It gets harder to clean

Then they just have to pack up
And leave this home, goodbye

The homes still a home
And do you know why
Because that's what we make it
That's all, that's why

S W T Read October 2010



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