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.