A World called Home...

A normal day, a decent walk
A sober call, a sound sleep at fall
A simple place with simple food
A simple world of simple woos
A simple world of simple pain
Of simple men of no disdain
Of simple tears and simple simple
Of simple dreams which lead the way
And of simple orders of ways to sustain
Of simple qualities and simple beams
Of simple trips of gleams
Of simple songs of life nd death
Of sonnets sung and to be sung ahead
Such a beauty it is to call
To sit in the troupes of flowers and recall
Recall the  simple steps of dawn
Recall the lunatic steps of noon
Recall the trods of senility at dusk
And at night the withering with rust.

And all this holds in the eyes with glee
A tear rolls when we go away with time
A simple place to look and behold
A place which all of us call our abode
An abode is yet a little less sublime
There is yet another name with prime
A place where love stands as the guarding dome -
A place of firmness, a world called home...