Fleeting Sweet Sensation

I’ve spent my days a wanderer
Mostly on the roam
Though on the way I’ve made myself
Many a lovely home

Sometimes one room a mansion in
Sizeable, with a solid wall
So life occur at will within
And I don’t have to hear it all

Other times that room
At one half or one third the size
Sometimes with but a curtain
To protect me from all passers’ eyes

Sometimes not even that
A simple corner of a room
Arrange my bags for color
Drape my scarves upon the broom

Oh, I’ve made homes in teepees
And in yurts and trailers, and
Once to a geodesic dome
I even put my hand

I’ve made many a camp
In deep woods or roadside by
And turned the backs of trucks into
Inviting nests in which to lie

Everywhere I go
The very first thing that I do
Is put the pretty things up front
The plainer ones away from view

And seek just for a moment
Ere once again away it go
That fleeting, sweet sensation
That I have a home to know

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