Home by Spiros Doikas

Beauty without the beloved
Is a sword through the heart
Gabriel Dante Rossetti

Every house which is not my home
Is a house of sorrow
Every house which is not her
Is a house of sorrow
For she is my home of homes
She is today, yesterday, and tomorrow

And every brook, or tree, or flower
All beauty that would not know her
That doth appear on my sight
must fail to give delight

For each and every one of them
Serve only as a reminder:
that none of them is,
or ever will be, kinder.