Home In The Hollow
There's a home in the hollow with a bubbling stream,
where I can lay down and dream and dream;
and I can go places where I've never been.
And I can be old or a young child again,
a home in the hollow where peace lives on,
where life can stand still with the breaking of dawn.
There's a home in the hollow with tall, tall trees,
where wee creatures live way high in the leaves;
and each night they gather on their porches to sing,
with the frogs and the crickets by the ponds and spring;
and all of the nightbirds join in on the song,
and the home in the hollow feels like it belongs.
There's a home in the hollow where the morning sunrise
is a great breathless wonder to the beholders eyes;
where a child can grow happy, wiser and strong,
and family ties can go on and on;
where people can share in the joys that they give,
at home in the hollow where the good people live.
I found this poem in back of one of my cook books, I
hope you all enjoy it.