A SMALL HOUSE


  Along the banks of a river, is home,

 Apple trees, and hills of grass live here.

  A small house for a family of people,

  Food on the table, and a fire burning warm.

  Sitting on the porch, a fiddle in hand, I am,

  A pipe to smoke, is an evening kind of thing.

 Horses are down for the night, children in our 
  Sight,

  Nineteenth century life is quite a fight.

  A small house, is all we need to believe,

  Hopes and dreams are seen, as far as our 
  Eyes can see.
                               Keith Garrett