The Little White House

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Hidden by a grove of trees
A quaint, English home
Pieces of peace
Oh so nice
Alone in the grove of trees

Flying kites in the autumn
As the leaves turn bright
A corner of silent happiness
We throw away our cares
Alone in the grove of trees

Looking at the glistening boughs
Spending time with snow angels
The holy-like sparkle of the air
Replacing hard nerves with calm
Alone in the grove of trees

Splashing through the puddles
Giggling like mad at the sun
A paradise
Now hidden well
Alone in the grove of trees

Running 'round the soft, smooth grass
Blowing on dandelions
And smelling nature's blooms
A time of summer, sun, and fun
Alone in the grove of trees

Flitting, flying, floating back
90 years or so
To the time where white gloves waltz with men
And top hats say "Cheerio!"
Clap, Clap, Clap
Go our fancy clad hands
For the little white house in the trees

Tasting joy,
The grace of all times
Floating in the soft, cool air
Memories glistening
Waiting for you
Alone in the grove of trees

The Little White House
Is like a secluded place
Loving the wave of trees
Drinking my tea,
Rocking in my chair,
Alone in the grove of trees

The Little White House
Is a poor man's burden
No caretakers left to care
Packing away sweet treasures from time
The Little White House is a ghost

Forever alone,
Alone in the grove of trees

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