This, my rickety old house on the hill
That I've occupied since my birth-
Isn't the sturdiest looking of structures
As it desperately clings to the earth.
The wooden floors creak,
The swinging doors squeak
And as wind blows,
The peeling walls groan.
The garage is in shambles,
The chimney, it howls
And the back porch
And yard overgrown.
Yes, my rickety old house on the hill
May feel lonely at times and quite cold.
It may leak when it rains
And sway when winds blow.
I may fear whether or not it will hold.
But amidst the cons and afflictions it face,
My friend, to you I must say:
There's no more beautiful a sight to behold
Than to see how it still stands today.
The yard and porch bring wildlife to view
As they graze and thrive in the green.
I watch as I please from my hidden back door
At the quiet and beautiful scene.
The chimney still serves a place for a fire
To warm me on much colder days.
And when it's empty as the wind blows through,
I close my eyes, listening to music it plays.
The roof has holes that rain may come through
Trickling down to my cheeks and my head-
But to me, it feels like Mother Earth's kisses
And the sounds help me sleep when in bed.
This, my rickety old house on the hill
Has seen many hardships in its day
But I see it still stand
And I know of its strength
And I simply wouldn't have it any other way.
*****
