Give me a home to call my own
A humble home of wood or stone;
A place where ripples laugh all day
And songbirds sing and children play
A little home of love and cheer
Where seasons paint throughout the year,
And at last, when the day is through,
A place where I may talk with you.

Give me a home to call my own,
A friendly home to stand alone
And crown some earthly mound of clay
Or set before an ocean spray,
A simple home of faith and trust
Where I may toil in Heaven’s dust
And when, anew, each day is through,
A place where I may be with you.

Give me a home to call my own,
A common home of tree or stone;
A place where kindness lights the way,
And flowers bloom and willows sway-
A home of love where hearts may kiss
Each tender joy of wedded bliss,
And in each hour of life to find,
A truer peace of heart and mind.

Sara Stowell

Home on the beach

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