Coming Home

The knowledge of my return eager's me to leave,
To begin the foundation a new quilt to weave,
Excitement flows freely in search of new hope,
I feel empowered having given up the dope!

Anticipating the sense of my new beau,
And in trepidation to observe a heart will grow,
Despite the future this Sunday I will,
Be coming home to be with him, to be quiet and still.

I can not begin to describe the patient longing,
For leaving him so soon increased the craving,
The clock now turns in his direction,
And in his arms I shall feel the sweet perfection.

Three days, two sleeps anxiously I wait,
My concentration detracts from my present state,
Unable to shift from the thought of you,
Coming home is all I really want to do.

Reluctant to lose where I am now,
For my purpose here I must endow,
To reap the rewards of a place so great,
Stories and proverbs to share with inspiring debate.

This land has up surged a new heightened spirit,
And I am grateful for the power that made me do it,
To travel and witness such raw terrain,
And leave me full of delicate gain.

The Brighton to London Poet

© 2006 MCARB