Happiness Poems. Poems about Happiness. In My Own, My Chosen Home. Happy Poem.

All around are the places we live in.
But what does it mean, to be at home?
My father never felt at home.
In my own, my chosen home -
explorations, reflections, word pieces
on the sense of home.

________________________

home place, happiness poems, home space, happiness growing,
chosen home, forever at home, happiness flowing into happiness poetry,
home is where the heart is, homeward bound,
happiness flowing into poems about happiness,
a happy poem a day keeps the doctor away,
no matter how humble there's no place like home,
poems about happiness, poems about joy,
home home on the range where the deer and the antelope play,
poems overflowing from the fullness of life,
home - where my heart is waiting silently for me, falling into place,
poems of stillness, poems of peace
no race, space to breathe,
outward bound, homeward bound, chosen home, o give me a home,
and then, contentment poems come into my head from my heart,
from this chosen home, the seasons,
the world is my home, my home is the world, at home in,
at home in words, at home in ideas, at home among people,
forever at home, not never at home, instead happiness poems,
poems about happiness flowing
___________________

site design, site construction - Elsa Schieder
copyright © Elsa Schieder, 2006, 2008 - all rights reserved
copyright © elsas-word-story-image-idea-music-emporium.com, 2006-2008 -
all rights reserved
an all round creative space, creativity emporium and creativity match space
CLICK HERE TO CONTACT

Elsa
of
elsas word story image idea music emporium.com

Happiness Poems. Poems about Happiness. In my own, my chosen home, on a high plateau, all alone, yet cozy, a nest, I've come to rest, I feel blessed. Happiness Poem. Happy Poem.
in my own, my chosen home ... my chosen home ... being at home ... not at home ... home ... home is ...
HOME WELCOME MENU			contact
Here, on a windswept high plateau, is where I have most come to feel most at home. This is also where the words came to me - in my own, my chosen home - and where I started my exploration of what it means, to be at home. ** MENU WELCOME ON BEING AT HOME: THOUGHTS MY FATHER, MY SELF MY CHOSEN HOME HOME WORLD POEMS along with THOUGHTS IN MY OWN, MY CHOSEN HOME SUMMER'S PASSING POEMS IN MY OWN, MY CHOSEN HOME SUMMER'S PASSING INTERACTIVE FLASH MUSIC VIDEO!! SUMMER'S PASSING HOME IS ... many voices CONTENTS - ALL MORE POEMS, SPOKEN WORD, AND SONGS ** contact top of page HOME - first version - 2006	HOME IS … All around me are the places we live in – old brick houses, apartment blocks, highrises. But what does it mean, to be at home? I didn’t know that question interested me until Karen, a painter, and David, a photographer, asked me if I would like to be part of their project. It had nothing to do with home. They were planning to explore Quebec – “Quebec Seen” – through their very different eyes. I would add another element, words. I wasn’t enthusiastic, but I claimed to be. Yes, wonderful, great project. Maybe it was. But my heart wasn’t in it. At heart, I am not a tourist. I would have to drag myself to place after place. Inside me, everything said, “I’d rather stay home.” My way of getting around my inner foot-dragging was to suggest we start with a weekend at what was just beginning to become my home, the old country place that my partner and I had bought a couple of years before. After all, the countryside was gorgeous, and we would have a place to stay. Karen and David would be the first guests ever – because for two years walls had been coming down, plaster dust was everywhere, windows were changed in mid-winter, the furniture was protected under thick layers of plastic. Philippe, my partner, was off somewhere traveling for work. I spent eight hours setting up the living room. That weekend, David photographed and Karen sketched. I could not make myself do what I was supposed to do – experience the landscape and express this experience. But a couple of days later, alone, watching the autumn morning from inside my home, I heard the words, “in my own, my chosen home,” inside my head. That’s where it all started for me, my exploration of what it means to be at home. I sat down and wrote, walked from room to room and wrote. The words came and came. copyright © Elsa Schieder 2006, 2008 publishing house - FlufferDuff Impressions 2006, 2008
		IN MY OWN, MYiCHOSENiHOME in my own my chosen home on a high plateau all alone yet cozy a nest and large inviting in each day I feel blessed inviting in for the eyes the flocks of birds the morning mist the nighttime sky inviting in the forest that changes day by day to russets and reds to shades of gray I feast my eyes I feel blessed in this my chosen home I've come to rest with cats and dog and partner and stepchild with friends, my friends and theirs those we invite in the landscape is always our guest we invite it in on each side through huge windows with warm wood frames and we begin to put down roots plant rose bushes wild roses near the barn I move from room to room can't settle down my eyes feast can't settle on just one sight though in this my chosen home I've settled in and settled blossom from deep inside open wide my arms my heart which whispers cries let the loving start it's love that floods in from each field each far-off farm each sunrise sunset each far distant hill it's love that warms each cell overflows the heart the autumn fields long grasses furrowed lines will yield to winter to spring to summer sun I stand watching feeling tall slim tufts of hay swaying just outside my window because we've delayed mowing the field around us I like the tall dry grass it's hard to leave to tear myself away I invite I long to stay and to share this my chosen home on a high plateau cozy large spacious warm my home Elsa October 2, 2000 copyright © Elsa Schieder 2000, 2008 publishing house - FlufferDuff Impressions 2006, 2008 For only the poem/word piece, click here.

	contact your thoughts what home means to you Subscribe To This Site The impetus for the poem goes back to childhood. Click here for father and daughter stories, starting with a father who never seemed to feel at home, except in his imaginings, his longings, his dreams. Happiness poems - so many possibilities. Click here for Summer's Passing - early evening, late summer - happiness - feeling summer passing. To go to only the poem/word piece, click here. top of page **** Happiness Poems. Poems about Happiness. In my own, my chosen home, on a high plateau, all alone, yet cozy, a nest, I've come to rest, I feel blessed. Happiness Poem. Happy Poem. All around are the places we live in. But what does it mean, to be at home? My father never felt at home. In my own, my chosen home - explorations, reflections, word pieces on the sense of home. ________________________ home place, happiness poems, home space, happiness growing, chosen home, forever at home, happiness flowing into happiness poetry, home is where the heart is, homeward bound, happiness flowing into poems about happiness, a happy poem a day keeps the doctor away, no matter how humble there's no place like home, poems about happiness, poems about joy, home home on the range where the deer and the antelope play, poems overflowing from the fullness of life, home - where my heart is waiting silently for me, falling into place, poems of stillness, poems of peace no race, space to breathe, outward bound, homeward bound, chosen home, o give me a home, and then, contentment poems come into my head from my heart, from this chosen home, the seasons, the world is my home, my home is the world, at home in, at home in words, at home in ideas, at home among people, forever at home, not never at home, instead happiness poems, poems about happiness flowing ___________________ top of page site design, site construction - Elsa Schieder copyright © Elsa Schieder, 2006, 2008 - all rights reserved copyright © elsas-word-story-image-idea-music-emporium.com, 2006-2008 - all rights reserved an all round creative space, creativity emporium and creativity match space CLICK HERE TO CONTACT Elsa of elsas word story image idea music emporium.com

Happiness Poems. Poems about Happiness. In my own, my chosen home, on a high plateau, all alone, yet cozy, a nest, I've come to rest, I feel blessed. Happiness Poem. Happy Poem.

All around are the places we live in. But what does it mean, to be at home? My father never felt at home. In my own, my chosen home - explorations, reflections, word pieces on the sense of home.

Happiness Poems. Poems about Happiness.
In my own, my chosen home,
on a high plateau, all alone,
yet cozy, a nest, I've come to rest,
I feel blessed.
Happiness Poem. Happy Poem.

All around are the places we live in.
But what does it mean, to be at home?
My father never felt at home.
In my own, my chosen home -
explorations, reflections, word pieces
on the sense of home.