No Place To Go

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The happiest nights
  I ever know
  Are those when I've
  No place to go,
  And the missus says
  When the day is through:
  "To-night we haven't
  A thing to do."

  Oh, the joy of it,
  And the peace untold
  Of sitting 'round
  In my slippers old,
  With my pipe and book
  In my easy chair,
  Knowing I needn't
  Go anywhere.

  Needn't hurry
  My evening meal
  Nor force the smiles
  That I do not feel,
  But can grab a book
  From a near-by shelf,
  And drop all sham
  And be myself.

  Oh, the charm of it
  And the comfort rare;
  Nothing on earth
  With it can compare;
  And I'm sorry for him
  Who doesn't know
  The joy of having
  No place to go.

© Edgar Albert Guest