Curtains drawn as night unfolds.
The future whispers what it holds.
And yet with fabric over glass.
The outside world can seem to pass.
Jam the door that was ajar.
To make the mundane world seem far.
These walls, your castle and your keep.
A sanctuary in which to sleep.
But then a home is so much more.
That treasured world behind the door
Whether it be grand or small.
These island refuge’s serve us all.
A place to pace and plot and plan.
Where as humble thoughts our dreams began.
A case of calm and conscious care.
Which you will not find everywhere.
Through the walls the world still turns.
the candle of your sanctuary burns.
A waxy puddle in the light.
Evidence of sweet respite.
So off we charge into the bright.
The candle grows again by night.