It starts as a pretty shell. Built of things selected a lifetime ago.
Add furniture and ceiling fans, new plates and glasses.
Each morning begins in wonder. Becoming familiar with new surroundings.
Slowly it happens. Things find a place.
Clothes are hung in closets, shoes strewn across the floor.
Paint makes it personal.
Add pictures and art, some knick knacks and rugs.
Slowly it happens. The house envisioned,
The plans made begin to take shape.
Eventually it happens, a little more each day.
A house becomes a home.
1 comment:
Aww...shucks. That was tender.
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