Empty Nest

If I were a house
I would be filled with the warmth
Of a lovingly baked ginger cake
Mingling gleefully with the waft
Of freshly brewed, enticing coffee
Slightly crumpled, sun-dried sheets
Drapes, clothes with comforting smells
Yarn, books, crafts for the mind to rest
Within the walls, a home, so blessed
Footsteps, laughter, a quick scuffle
At sundown, closed doors, windows
Will capture moments, reveries
To reflect from bare walls
When the nest is empty