Poem: The Shield

Within four walls, a story grows,
Of laughter shared and soft repose,
A place where hearts find time to mend,
Where every crack learns how to bend.

But peace, like fire, must be fed—
By watchful hands and words unsaid.
A lock turned tight, a window closed,
A light that flickers when evening glows.

Not just from storms or shadows deep,
Do we protect the ones who sleep,
But from neglect, and time’s slow wear,
With steady love and constant care.

A home’s not just a roof above—
It’s woven strong with acts of love.
So guard it well, both brick and beam,
And hold it close—this living dream.

Thank-you for reading.

Much love and Light,

Brenda Marie Fluharty