Mark, I absolutely love this piece and I must say I'm gutted that I have no votes left because I think this deserves one.
When I saw the title I assumed it would be about missing home but it's not exactly the case here but I think the titles very fitting.
1/ I love this opening the imagery is beautiful with (I think) a tinge of sadness as I believe this person whispered sweet nothings to you making you feel loved and cared for then they said some horrible things though I possibly read more into it than I should have especially as the words were left to blossom hmm. I do love how you used all the seasons here.
2/ oh my goodness. Once again I'm in love with this (lol) and i think your descriptives and metaphors are perfectly done and I believe you cannot get enough of this person especially as when they hold you, you feel like you're home; that's real love. Perfect
The first stanza is a creative way to say that this person exudes warmth in the way they speak. Soon though, said person "drowns" his/her own words ("drench in august's monsoon"), which could mean theyve gone cold. But it seems he/she doesn't mean it because they have different and possibly, more innocent, intentions ("in a bid for them to blossom").
"your fingers are long narrow backroads
winding into to warm backwaters
that you house your doubts in."
There's a little typo in the second line above. I'm picturing the said person running their hands through their hair (because that's where doubts are, in your head/mind, right? Haha), in frustration maybe or somewhere in the lines of defeat.
In the following verses, fingers may be "faucets" because this person writes. Love the images here.
And of course:
and I know this
because I’m home
when you hold me."
The final part is just lovely. Whoever is being referred to here must feel special if they read this knowing it was written for them.
I can't end this without mentioning how you choose your words. It's eloquent and feather-like, I would say. I love how you play with words, ("spring of summer" -- like the birth of warmth/radiance/light, bringing two seasons together) & ("breeding them in april..." -- breeding is a harsh word but you make it work. Possibly connecting to my assumption before that this person's actions/words were harsh/cold but it was not their intention, and the speaker acknowledges that). In the first stanza, I also like how "monsoon" runs gracefully into "blossom", sounds very pretty. Anyway, it's a joy to read your poetry again, which is why you should write and share more :)