The day is quiet and still,
as I lie here,
thinking about a cabin,
a cabin high on a hill.
That old cabin,
about a mile from the road,
on both sides of the driveway,
rows of red pine have growed.
It was late in the fall,
my last time there,
the cabin was nestled,
nestled in brilliant colors,
O, how beautiful, how fare.
As I think and dream,
about that cabin so fare,
O, how I wish, I was there!
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Balanced!
COMFORT FOR THE WEAK As this old body gets weak And the pain grows great, And I find it hard to pray, As my headaches get worse everyday. I ...
i love your poems.. if you permit i'd like to publish it on my site in my Prose category. It's one way of promoting your blog page as well. You may check it here.---> www.gracefulintentions.com
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Hi my friend! Feel free to use any of my poems! Thanks for your kind words!
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