Bidding You Welcome

[katepoet]

I thought sometimes with all our pets and busy lives, maybe there was something in this poem of mine that we share:

Bidding You Welcome

When you enter my home
you will not find a home-cooked meal
waiting in the kitchen to warm you-
we cannot eat those foods anymore.
You will not sit down to a glass of wine or
a tot of sherry, a deep burgundy draught
redolent of old barrel staves and cozy
winter nights in front of the fire roasting
chestnuts after sledding for hours-
I will not risk the loss of friends
to whom alcohol does damage by serving it here.
You will not find matching curtains and
upholstery, or all our art hung properly on the walls,
or coordinated color schemes that compliment
the brightly woven rug
in the foyer by the front door.

When you enter my home,
what you will find is
a firm handshake or a warm embrace;
kindness and respect,
freely given before you ask;
friends who care about your heart
and listen to your dreams;
a black-and-white puppy
who dances with joy to greet you;
a dishcloth imprinted with silhouettes
of little black chickens; and a modicum of
good conversation and hearty laughter
bidding you welcome.


Katherine A Minden copyright 2006

[Janet]

Very nice Kate.

[katepoet]

Thanks, Janet.

[Mandy]

That was very nice.

[katepoet]

Thanks. What is your home like? What will a visitor find?

[Mandy]

My home is comfortable, it's inviting, people like to come here, and i'm glad they feel right "at home" here.

[rivermom]

Originally Posted by katepoet

Thanks. What is your home like? What will a visitor find?

Our home is like relaxing chaos


They will find a smigen of dust...

A drink for their palate...

Hear music from my dogs...

And probably leave with a full belly.

[rivermom]

Originally Posted by katepoet

I thought sometimes with all our pets and busy lives, maybe there was something in this poem of mine that we share:

Bidding You Welcome

When you enter my home
you will not find a home-cooked meal
waiting in the kitchen to warm you-
we cannot eat those foods anymore.
You will not sit down to a glass of wine or
a tot of sherry, a deep burgundy draught
redolent of old barrel staves and cozy
winter nights in front of the fire roasting
chestnuts after sledding for hours-
I will not risk the loss of friends
to whom alcohol does damage by serving it here.
You will not find matching curtains and
upholstery, or all our art hung properly on the walls,
or coordinated color schemes that compliment
the brightly woven rug
in the foyer by the front door.

When you enter my home,
what you will find is
a firm handshake or a warm embrace;
kindness and respect,
freely given before you ask;
friends who care about your heart
and listen to your dreams;
a black-and-white puppy
who dances with joy to greet you;
a dishcloth imprinted with silhouettes
of little black chickens; and a modicum of
good conversation and hearty laughter
bidding you welcome.


Katherine A Minden copyright 2006

Nice poem.