I was walking down the street when I saw in the window a warm fire glowing. It looked so welcoming, a family gathered around sipping cocoa under a flannel blanket. There were warm buns on the table. I wanted so badly to knock on the door, but what would this family think, a stranger popping in to their evening of fire and friendship.
It’s a sunny December morning in Boston. I weave through the traffic on my way to the airport. Today, the warm vehicles doesn’t bother me. I wait in the terminal, pacing. My hands are shaking and my heartbeat rises with my heart on the flight monitor. I stare down the long hall of the terminal. Men in uniform pass and great loved ones. Finally I see mine. I welcome him home. My heart is happy.
yahumm the “one word” is only showing half way…. and it is not even on this screen…… it says WELCOMIng that does not even make sense…………………… goodbye :) i am soooo confused….. i willl now write random words.. : meow. cat woof dog lick pat hi what is up.. glue eww web spider random.. what ami doing? is this even nessassy?
The world is very welcoming in many ways. It’s beautiful, yet cruel. I would look around myself and just stare at the scenery in front of me, enveloping me in it’s welcoming embrace. Sometimes I just need to be alone, and it gets that. Sometimes, I want company, and it gives me it. The world is truly beautiful.
Rouge smiled and held open the door. “Come on in.”
“Thanks.” Julia smiled back. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Not at all, hon. I’ll fix some cocoa.” Rouge headed into the kitchen.
I’m home from school. My sneakers are wet and I forgot to bring a change in clothes; we had swim today. As I shuffle inside, I pull off my socks and go immediately to replace my pants; I have karate later, and I don’t want to go, but I go anyways. While I’m there, they tell me to yell louder; I break down and cry in the bathroom and muffle my tears with paper towels. When I come home, I’m greeted by my puppy, who lathers me in love and kisses; you lather me in shouting words and anger.
there is something so welcoming
about walking into the barn
the horses stick their noses through the bars on their stall doors
and nicker to say hello
you can smell the hay
and the tack
and the horses
(of course)
and everybody you see wants you to be there
there is something so welcoming
about belonging
red tags all I see; what’s your worth? name your price.
a human investment, a rented storage device.
a business of bodies: a gamble, a game
your skin is a contract. my lips sign my name.
She crossed her arms in the doorway, waiting for him to speak.
“I’m sorry.” He looked down at his brown leather shoes, shameful tears, glistening in his eyes.
Her shoulders fell as she sighed, disappointed yet again.
The day we welcome our futures and all the people in our new life will be the day we become who we are meant to be. Nothing good ever comes of fear. It was created as an obstacle just to hold us back.
Even though his wife was cooking a seemingly delicious meal, John stepped out of the house and joined Sherlock as they visited their favorite italian restaurant.
The old man sat at the entrance in a metal folding chair, reading the Sunday paper. Part of the welcoming brigade, they said. The first person they see when they get out of their car, they said. To the old man, it all just sounded like one thing. “You’re useless.”
A welcome back party was the last thing I needed right now. In no shape, way or form was I ready to answer their questions as to where I had been for the past two months or why i wasn’t at school. I felt myself on the verge of another psychotic break as they all did exactly what I was afraid they’d do.
They were welcoming their first child in less than 24 hours, courtesy of an OB/GYN who had a trip to Trindad/Tobago scheduled for Sunday and, yes, there was also the matter of avoiding a Wayeb birth date.
The place seemed so welcoming. I walked in and I at once felt at home. There were chairs set up around the room. There were glasses of ice water sat on a table.
The girl–her sister, she supposed, if she really had to get used to calling her that–wrapped her arms around Janice, but her touch was stiff and delicate as a meringue. She held away and cut the hug short.
There is nothing more comforting than the welcoming arms of Sleep on a night filled with that beautifully designed darkness and the soothing lull of a storm raging outside while you lay between warm blankets and sheets wrapped delicately within the soul of another living breathing person. And I know you don’t want to hear this, but every time I think of the nights we have yet to share I know that I have never slept any better than I will when we finally get the time we have promised each other. You read these words, I know you do, I hope you remember that there is nothing more comforting than the welcoming arms of sleep. Especially when you’re already entangled in the arms of someone you love more than anything else in the world.
Nothing ever changes about the mat. It’s worn, it’s broken up, it’s got holes in all the wrong places so your bare foot clashes with the imitation marble—it’s got history, though, by God, it’s been tread upon by all the big names (at least in our household), it’s been the subject of topics of conversation that wander off into all types of tangents. It’s beautiful, and it’s yours, but I’d like to keep it forever, if you don’t mind.
You were so welcoming. I felt an instant connection to you. I want to know more about this great guy that was taking an interest in me. You will forever be one of the most interesting people I have ever met. Why did you have to move away?
Welcoming, surprisingly enjoyable music, considering it was an amateur music group and they were playing really hard music;. They didn’t play well yet the music was exciting and in fact nail biting, you wouldn’t that that would be enjoyable, sort of like viewing a train wreck, but it was enjoyable. Sometimes music isn’t about the music.
If only you could have been as welcoming as they were. I mean, they aren’t even my parents. Yeah, I don’t fit into your definition of a ‘good son.’ But that doesn’t make me a bad person. Respect me for who I am. They did. And they didn’t give birth to me.
Ahhh, again. I come home to the apple and cinnamon spices that fill the air, the red gilded curtains, the vibrant hand woven rugs and the finely polished dark wooden furniture. Books everywhere and the radiators that you can sit on for warmth. A dog on her private rug, a stew in the crock pot, cookies in the oven and hot chocolate in the future. Yet, there’s a crack in the wallpaper, and something’s seeping out and it isn’t concrete, but the feeling the home that was once what made this feel so welcoming. There’s still cinnamon in the air, beautiful furniture, radiators and cookies, but there’s not much reason for them all anymore. How do we get past this uncontrollable tension?
The house had a welcoming atmosphere, and the heavy and pleasing odors of the adjacent food table certainly helped with that. I grabbed a paper plate and filled it with delicacy cheeses, sausage bites, chicken legs, and olives before trotting over to the balcony, where my friend Joy was watching her father play tennis in the court below.
“Great place,” I told her.
“Thanks.” Joy smiled. “It’ll be all mine once the old bastard kicks it.”
it is nice to come home to a welcome home, and as such a welcoming feeling. Many things nowadays seem unwelcoming: I have trouble walking into a store which gives off unwelcoming vibes.
But as such, welcoming is an essential tool to all who are living human beings.
A welcoming place is good for the heart and everybody you hold dear. Awelcoming person would be great.
They don’t pick who they will smile to and greet everyone. My friends place is really welcoming.
Her mom would make us some snacks and we do what we need to do and our homeworks.
Sometimes they let me have dinner there. Her mom cooks and it’s really nice.
She opened her arms, welcoming the guests as they deboarded the bus into her bed and breakfast. They rushed past her, disgruntled and unused to the hospitality she was showing. Nevertheless, she tried to greet each person individually.
Felicity flashed a warm, welcoming smile as she guided me into the foyer and helped me remove my coat, shaking off the snow before hanging it in the closet. “There we are, love. Why don’t you go get warmed up by the fire, and I’ll let the others know you’re here. Would you like some tea or coffee?”
“Coffee, please. Thank you.” I smiled and nodded as she walked away. My eyes gazed slowly about the room, taking in my surroundings; the knotty pined walls, the elegant furnishings, and the homey atmosphere the Holt estate had. Already, however, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to stay here for over a year or more…
I was walking down the street when I saw in the window a warm fire glowing. It looked so welcoming, a family gathered around sipping cocoa under a flannel blanket. There were warm buns on the table. I wanted so badly to knock on the door, but what would this family think, a stranger popping in to their evening of fire and friendship.
It’s a sunny December morning in Boston. I weave through the traffic on my way to the airport. Today, the warm vehicles doesn’t bother me. I wait in the terminal, pacing. My hands are shaking and my heartbeat rises with my heart on the flight monitor. I stare down the long hall of the terminal. Men in uniform pass and great loved ones. Finally I see mine. I welcome him home. My heart is happy.
Airport on a sunny day
It’s winter but I’m warm
His open arms in the terminal
Welcome home
yahumm the “one word” is only showing half way…. and it is not even on this screen…… it says WELCOMIng that does not even make sense…………………… goodbye :) i am soooo confused….. i willl now write random words.. : meow. cat woof dog lick pat hi what is up.. glue eww web spider random.. what ami doing? is this even nessassy?
Welcoming to my home, a church and other places. Greeting is like welcoming.
Wow, this is amazing.
The world is very welcoming in many ways. It’s beautiful, yet cruel. I would look around myself and just stare at the scenery in front of me, enveloping me in it’s welcoming embrace. Sometimes I just need to be alone, and it gets that. Sometimes, I want company, and it gives me it. The world is truly beautiful.
Rouge smiled and held open the door. “Come on in.”
“Thanks.” Julia smiled back. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Not at all, hon. I’ll fix some cocoa.” Rouge headed into the kitchen.
I’m home from school. My sneakers are wet and I forgot to bring a change in clothes; we had swim today. As I shuffle inside, I pull off my socks and go immediately to replace my pants; I have karate later, and I don’t want to go, but I go anyways. While I’m there, they tell me to yell louder; I break down and cry in the bathroom and muffle my tears with paper towels. When I come home, I’m greeted by my puppy, who lathers me in love and kisses; you lather me in shouting words and anger.
there is something so welcoming
about walking into the barn
the horses stick their noses through the bars on their stall doors
and nicker to say hello
you can smell the hay
and the tack
and the horses
(of course)
and everybody you see wants you to be there
there is something so welcoming
about belonging
red tags all I see; what’s your worth? name your price.
a human investment, a rented storage device.
a business of bodies: a gamble, a game
your skin is a contract. my lips sign my name.
She crossed her arms in the doorway, waiting for him to speak.
“I’m sorry.” He looked down at his brown leather shoes, shameful tears, glistening in his eyes.
Her shoulders fell as she sighed, disappointed yet again.
The day we welcome our futures and all the people in our new life will be the day we become who we are meant to be. Nothing good ever comes of fear. It was created as an obstacle just to hold us back.
I asked Mary if i could take her coat as Tommy was welcoming her through the door … She said no thanks ..She sat down and i handed her her tea
i asked her if i could take her coat as tommy was welcoming her through the door … she said no thanks ..
Even though his wife was cooking a seemingly delicious meal, John stepped out of the house and joined Sherlock as they visited their favorite italian restaurant.
The old man sat at the entrance in a metal folding chair, reading the Sunday paper. Part of the welcoming brigade, they said. The first person they see when they get out of their car, they said. To the old man, it all just sounded like one thing. “You’re useless.”
Mario welcomes me to poo poo land it is stinky so he gives me his oxcgen mask but then he faints.
A peaceful invitation…I guess.
I was welcomed by his parents at the front door. I was feeling very nervous I need to make a great first impression.
A welcome back party was the last thing I needed right now. In no shape, way or form was I ready to answer their questions as to where I had been for the past two months or why i wasn’t at school. I felt myself on the verge of another psychotic break as they all did exactly what I was afraid they’d do.
Home, warmth and joy. Feeling comfortable in your own space.
They were welcoming their first child in less than 24 hours, courtesy of an OB/GYN who had a trip to Trindad/Tobago scheduled for Sunday and, yes, there was also the matter of avoiding a Wayeb birth date.
The place seemed so welcoming. I walked in and I at once felt at home. There were chairs set up around the room. There were glasses of ice water sat on a table.
The girl–her sister, she supposed, if she really had to get used to calling her that–wrapped her arms around Janice, but her touch was stiff and delicate as a meringue. She held away and cut the hug short.
welcom to our home i like to dance and sing and do seceret stuff here. And now u are part of it
There is nothing more comforting than the welcoming arms of Sleep on a night filled with that beautifully designed darkness and the soothing lull of a storm raging outside while you lay between warm blankets and sheets wrapped delicately within the soul of another living breathing person. And I know you don’t want to hear this, but every time I think of the nights we have yet to share I know that I have never slept any better than I will when we finally get the time we have promised each other. You read these words, I know you do, I hope you remember that there is nothing more comforting than the welcoming arms of sleep. Especially when you’re already entangled in the arms of someone you love more than anything else in the world.
Welcoming is something that I am not
one time I accidentally killed a guy when I met him
whoops
Nothing ever changes about the mat. It’s worn, it’s broken up, it’s got holes in all the wrong places so your bare foot clashes with the imitation marble—it’s got history, though, by God, it’s been tread upon by all the big names (at least in our household), it’s been the subject of topics of conversation that wander off into all types of tangents. It’s beautiful, and it’s yours, but I’d like to keep it forever, if you don’t mind.
Word will use for recive people in your house and make they confortable. it is a variaty of welcome.
You were so welcoming. I felt an instant connection to you. I want to know more about this great guy that was taking an interest in me. You will forever be one of the most interesting people I have ever met. Why did you have to move away?
Welcoming, surprisingly enjoyable music, considering it was an amateur music group and they were playing really hard music;. They didn’t play well yet the music was exciting and in fact nail biting, you wouldn’t that that would be enjoyable, sort of like viewing a train wreck, but it was enjoyable. Sometimes music isn’t about the music.
If only you could have been as welcoming as they were. I mean, they aren’t even my parents. Yeah, I don’t fit into your definition of a ‘good son.’ But that doesn’t make me a bad person. Respect me for who I am. They did. And they didn’t give birth to me.
Ahhh, again. I come home to the apple and cinnamon spices that fill the air, the red gilded curtains, the vibrant hand woven rugs and the finely polished dark wooden furniture. Books everywhere and the radiators that you can sit on for warmth. A dog on her private rug, a stew in the crock pot, cookies in the oven and hot chocolate in the future. Yet, there’s a crack in the wallpaper, and something’s seeping out and it isn’t concrete, but the feeling the home that was once what made this feel so welcoming. There’s still cinnamon in the air, beautiful furniture, radiators and cookies, but there’s not much reason for them all anymore. How do we get past this uncontrollable tension?
The house had a welcoming atmosphere, and the heavy and pleasing odors of the adjacent food table certainly helped with that. I grabbed a paper plate and filled it with delicacy cheeses, sausage bites, chicken legs, and olives before trotting over to the balcony, where my friend Joy was watching her father play tennis in the court below.
“Great place,” I told her.
“Thanks.” Joy smiled. “It’ll be all mine once the old bastard kicks it.”
it is nice to come home to a welcome home, and as such a welcoming feeling. Many things nowadays seem unwelcoming: I have trouble walking into a store which gives off unwelcoming vibes.
But as such, welcoming is an essential tool to all who are living human beings.
when it’s a pleasure to receive that, the people aroung that thinks nice
A welcoming place is good for the heart and everybody you hold dear. Awelcoming person would be great.
They don’t pick who they will smile to and greet everyone. My friends place is really welcoming.
Her mom would make us some snacks and we do what we need to do and our homeworks.
Sometimes they let me have dinner there. Her mom cooks and it’s really nice.
She opened her arms, welcoming the guests as they deboarded the bus into her bed and breakfast. They rushed past her, disgruntled and unused to the hospitality she was showing. Nevertheless, she tried to greet each person individually.
Felicity flashed a warm, welcoming smile as she guided me into the foyer and helped me remove my coat, shaking off the snow before hanging it in the closet. “There we are, love. Why don’t you go get warmed up by the fire, and I’ll let the others know you’re here. Would you like some tea or coffee?”
“Coffee, please. Thank you.” I smiled and nodded as she walked away. My eyes gazed slowly about the room, taking in my surroundings; the knotty pined walls, the elegant furnishings, and the homey atmosphere the Holt estate had. Already, however, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to stay here for over a year or more…