Stories Collected While Living in France
Home.
That is where my heart goes,
That is where I find my roots that hold me in place,
That is where the long road ends, where the green never seems less green.
Home is where my soul knows no bounds, and my arms never tire.
Home, that is where I am when I feel the distance between the
Here and now, don't have words nor need them.
Home is no longer an external place, rather it is within me. It rises from the core of my being, Like a spring that goes beyond space and time.
xoxo
And how were the cookies?
(Love the welcoming signs from the younger generation! When you post about this, tell us how all the nicknames came about.)
In lieu of cookies, I baked Molten Lava Chocolate Cakes for dessert tonight. They were quick to make, and weren’t bad to deat, especially seeing as it was the first time I’d ever tried the recipe.
So happy for you X.
Beautiful stated!
When I read your words all they do is make you feel! Goosebumps, tears, and ah! Such emotions, but not little ones, those rich ones!
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