Home is where I rest my head,
Calling north, new paths to tread:
People to meet, friends to make,
I hope I remember how to bake cake!
Things long past, but not forgot,
Let’s hope my skills haven’t gone to pot!
The journey will be done in two hits,
A little now, just a few odd bits.
A washing line, straight and true,
From front to back, with pegs askew.
Cupboards and hooks, once more are mine,
No furniture yet, but we’ll be just fine.
Things to be ordered, delivered and such,
When we’ve moved in, it will be a rush!
The two of us and the dog makes three,
Heading Home, where we’re meant to be.