With everything in place as it should
And everything dirty or neat.
I see it in simple reflection
Until times have changed it to be
A house with a memory; it’s more than a house
It once was home to me.
I’d give so much to live again
In that house when it was mine.
Then it knew our laughter and tears,
With its memory just begun.
I was unwise to have left it, I know.
All I got for my pains
Was a heap of things I thought worthwhile
And a desire to be back again.
It might be made home again, who knows?
I watch the moonlight slant through a tree,
And know that old room was more than a house.
It was once home to me