New Years' Sonnet

From up so high, the colours blur; from here,

a poet should have more to say, but I

am not concern'd with how the atmosphere

blends all to grey. Then sudden! as we fly

beneath the clouds that hover over home,

I'm overcome with something like a love.

Two years took me away -- away to roam

a land to brim with strangers. From above,

my home feels like a friend with welcome arms;

it rushes up to meet me; landmarks wave

to greet me. And the loveliness and charms

of home promise a year, worth both I gave.

Unlike the world I saw and all I've seen,

my home, instead of grey, is soothing green.

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