Beyond the pond, and through the woods, a lovely old rock house once stood. Fine tapestry hung not upon each wall, nor chandeliers from ceilings so tall.
Yet, melodies of song and laughter rang from its rafters, and children played as they lived happily ever after, Each one grew and left the nest to take their flight, longing for something that called them into the night.
Each child departed and the lights fell dim, until no longer was there laughter from within. Hollyhock bloomed beneath the swing, and the dinner bell silenced its clarming ring.
Past the storm cellar and the tattered old barn, were oak trees that lined a pathe to that once loved farm. As the shadows grew long and the day grew darker, there appeared an iron fence that protected a stone marker.
A house whether made of timber, straw, or rock, can not seal away its loving warmth with a lock. The house had seen each child come and go, and the heart of the home lives within each heart and soul.
