...when I am home.

[burrealist]

When I am home and in my bed,
familiar things around my head, Recently I've considered the relationship between words I rhyme. These work in the sense that you dream/daydream in your head while in bed. The way you wrote it sounds too easy, and you also repeated "my", so...
I know I will remember these: Right here I like the divergence in the line-break. It rhymes as well as moves into something different.
Sitka's sighs in salty breeze, I actually don't know what/who Sitka is.
skirling gulls on wind-wild days; 
sun-gold water wedged 'tween haze
and Raasay Sound, sparked bright with foam;
when I am back in bed at home. 

When I am home and in my bed,
I'll dream I'm in this land  instead; Did you mean to put a colon?
prone Rona's peaks proud capped in snow,
hoist from the soft-sprung peat below.
From every cleft  sweet water swells
to flow in burns through quiet dells.
These things I hold, like words unsaid,
whenI am home and in my bed.

When I am home and in my bed
awake, yet dream-strange  tears I shed.
Each by each bring memories
of floating eagles, tumbling screes,
mirrored mountains, salmon's wakes,
flame-flushed air before day breaks,
heather smoke that drifts and mists
the dour, drab Skye, where sunlight flits,
long after shadows lay blurred lines,
across the cladding, darkening pines.
All things persist; asleep or dead,
when I am home and in my bed. What style of poetry is this? This line is repeated frequently, and I am unfamiliar with formality.

tectak
Callakille2017

So you like to dream a lot? Me too. I'm constantly (purposefully) oblivious of the world around me. It's taken some work.

So after I read it, I wonder if there's a reason you keep escaping to different worlds while in the comforts of your private bed?