Homeland

    

What countries ask of kings,

is rarely all the same,

re-population never to yours, the aim, of

any of those wild foreign games. In fact,

she wasn't sure 

she was unselfish enough

to plant seeds and tend, in any fresh plough.

Well now,

you supposed at her desires,

without any consultation as to what really

lit fires, and beacons, on her cliffs

and throne 

what it was that trully made you feel 

like home. Really she asked only,

that you stayed;

through her mists and temperate storms

that passed

just as eagerly as you wiggled your toes 

in her fresh spring grasses,

and moth-kissed her skin

on a summer's night.

      

You see, other countries 

might have demanded 

sight

of their future selves,

and a tiny crown,

in your eyes; but she;

was an island - 

an endless vacation,

yours to own, a tiny nation (of two),

for only the price 

of a heart,

and the holding of an equal hand; 

given over;

as a passport, a devoted citizen

of she,

your chosen homeland.