I start my day
at the beginning
of the yellow brick road.
after a long day
of turning and weaving
i turn the key and enter my sanctuary;and
announce "Honey, I am home."
I head down the hall
in the quiet darkness of my den.
It is raining, lightening..
thundering, downpours.
intermixing with soft showers
announcing....
that time is merely
a frame of mind.
I have nothing more;
than this moment,
and I am blessed.
I live in Emerald city.
The house in the middle,
at the end of the row.
To see what is real
because I know
to trust more in those thing's
I do not see,
than in the things
that I do.
for the eye's see
only a portion
of what is actually there.
Our emotions are felt like
opalescent drops
pouring down from the heaven's above
outside, onto the
leaves, sidewalk, road
the rain pour's, splatter's.
glistening all it touches
in the light of the moon.
downpours that are hard to see through
and soft showers
that are soothing to the soul.
you and me babe,
from the same house
at the end of the row.
no worries
cause there is just
no place like home
in our quite santuary.

Methinks the queen's watched too much Wizard of Oz... Good poem none the less though.

the poem was very good thank you for posting it