Creative Experiments and More

It is the time for us to go home, or welcome people home. Or just find that place within ourselves we can call home.  There are some people who induce that feeling in us of being home. There are times ideas come home to us – as if they never really went away, but were just waiting to be found.

Everybody needs love – be it self-love, or coming from others.

I don’t know which one is the main theme here, and which is the sub-theme – Home or Love. Go ahead and explore…..

It took a huge effort for him to go home. The whole thought of it as home left him feeling ill, so many triggers at the mention of the word.

But Christmas was Christmas, and at the urging of his siblings, he decided to make the effort.

He knew she would be there and the thought…

The shore that call us home*
Was the title of the poem
By Samuel Hazo in 1949
Makes me think about my life
Every time I go home and meet my
Family, friends and relatives again
After some time when I’m here
And they are there living differently
Yet parallel to each other, there’s this
Nostalgic feeling, of being home again
This land or these islands I miss so much
It doesn’t matter where I am now, and
I’m building a home with my family here
But over there where I used to call home
Full of childhood memories, of school,
Of college, of my first experience at work
First love, first kiss, first of everything
These experiences made me and taught me
They gave me a solid foundation of how
It is to be me, all the trials and errors
They gave me the confidence to try and
Explore…

You are not a joke.
You were not made to merely
exist and berate yourself.
You were not made to
impress others.
You were not made to be
treated like a toy.
And at the end of the day
if everyone you hold dear
turns to leave
I’ll still be here.
If no one is willing to love you
I will love you.
Because in my eyes,
you were made to warm the
hearts of others
just as you have warmed
mine.

©AnAnonymousEscapeFromLife

For more writing and poems, feel free to visit me on my personal blog – An Anonymous Escape From Life

---

Photo by frank mckenna on Unsplash

*

Silence holds secrets
Whispered only to the wind
Ghosts carry rumours
Only speculation lives
The dead will carry no tales

*

The photo for this week’s prompt was taken at the Dashwood Mausoleum, perched high above the little village of West Wycombe, and beneath which are the notorious Hellfire Caves, the meeting place of Dashwood’s Hellfire Club, whose illustrious membership included John Wilkes, the Earl of Sandwich and Benjamin Franklin.

The village is dominated by the hill which is crowned by an ancient hillfort that may once have been a site of great ritual significance. Today, the strange church whose ancient design was so oddly changed by the enigmatic Sir Francis Dashwood, sits at the centre of the earthwork beside the mausoleum.

*

My apologies for the delay in reading and commenting on posts this week. I was away for a few days and came back to both…