There was a house once in the garden,
With tumbledown walls time did not pardon,
A sturdy home of clay and peat,
A little place where hearts could meet.
The roof was woven out of grass,
And little feet had made the pass.
Trees had grown to hold it tight,
A tiny home in tender might.
A world of flowers warmed its feet,
And in their faces stars could meet.
Dark green curtains in their frames,
A swing and slide for silly games.
A little bench of broken wood,
A place to sit as Grandma would.
Sprinkled petals on the lawn,
To lie and smell and touch and fawn.
It was a place I might belong,
Except my brother trod on it and it was gone.