Coming Home

Home is the place I return to
After the day's work is done.
Hanging my coat on
The hook by the door
And leaving my troubles behind.

When I'm at home with my feet up,
I'm lost in a world of my own,
Reading some book or
Just gathering wool,
Relaxing my turbulent mind.

Rain may beat down on the windows,
Wind whistle under the eaves.
Inside these walls I
Feel cosy and warm,
In sanctuary I am enshrined.