the farm

poems and tales about life on a farm in rural maine:

comforts of home

It's cold outside and rainy. The heat is on inside.
I enter the warmth and it caresses my face and wafts
across my hands, accentuating their chill.
The smell of home greets my nose, comforting it
with a goodness and familiarity.
I hang my coat on the sturdy maple kitchen chair
deposit my hat, gloves, purse, tote and the groceries
I picked up on the way home.
The music washes in from the dining room, soothingly
light and warmish in nature.
The lights are soft, the wood stove cranks out heat from
the basement.
The tea kettle steams merrily waiting to make tea or
hot chocolate. Bear waggles himself over to my side,
so happy I am home that he can't contain his joy;
nor does he try!
"Mommy!" my little girl cries as she tumbles into the kitchen.
"I'm so glad you're home! I missed you today! You've been gone
ever so long!" We snuggle together and she tickles my cheek
with her long, long eyelashes in her version of butterfly kisses.
Its good to be home.