The fire burns within the hearth,
A gentle light upon the floor.
The dearest place upon the earth,
Where love remains forevermore.
A father's hand, a mother's voice,
They guide us through the darkest night.
In every sorrow and rejoice,
They bring to us the morning light.
The laughter shared by kin and friend,
Echoes softly through the hall.
A bond that time can never end,
To catch us if we ever fall.
Though storms may rage outside the gate,
And winter winds begin to blow,
Together we accept our fate,
And watch the seasons come and go.
So let us cherish every day,
With those we hold so close and dear.
For family lights the winding way,
And casts away the shadow's fear.
The Hearth of Home
© Copyright: Гвоздев Евгений, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126022001733
Свидетельство о публикации №126022001733
Рецензии