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A house, for those many, may be called a home
But for some it’s only boards and some stone
They are the more lucky, for they, from the start
Know that home is the warmth that lives in the heart.









Posted July 29, 2015 by PapaBear in Family, Memories, Personal, Poetry

Tagged with , , , ,

2 responses to “Home

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  1. This sends a person off to bed with the warm and fuzzies 🙂

  2. Lovely Paul! Sleep well~

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