I have been to verdant hills
watch moonrise on sea at gloam
nothing compares to what it feels
when I am back to my home.
Have trekked faraway mountain pass
caravaned on rolling desert
gone to icy heights where grows no grass
coming home I found my heart.
When travel bug bites my feet
eyes beg for the unseen shore
I wander far but soon retreat
beckons me sweet home's door.
I roam the unknown in wanderlust
weary of the cramped furlong
but end of day in twilight dust
feel the home is where I belong.
Pradip Chattopadhyay
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/homing-bird/
