A Place To Call Home

I pine for a place to clepe home, 

Not sure if there is one

I look for home betwixt the pages of a book, betwixt poesy and in rain 

They proffer me a transient home that soon dwindles

I restart my odyssey, the search for a place to clepe home. 

I now look for it in the moon, in the moana and in the arms of my beloved

They too proffer me an ephemeral home, one which soon falls to pieces 

I move back to the odyssey, confounded this time 

I wonder if home is a phantom, a mirage in a dustbowl. 

I pine again, for a place to clep home, 

Not sure if there is one.