Cabin Of My Dreams
There is a cabin in my dreams. To which I often go,
Sometimes amid the Autumn leaves Or nestled in the snow.
It's close beside a crystal stream, Wherein I often swim,
And there are deer who never mind That I am watching them.
There is a cabin in my dreams, Rustic, quaint and small,
And yet I feel when I am there, I surely have it all.
It has two ample windows Through which the sunlight streams,
And when dusk falls, the honeysuckle Drifts into my dreams.
There is no need to lock the door, No one lives out this far.
And I do very well indeed Without a bus or car.
I've spent some happy hours On that bench beneath the trees,
My homemade bread is sweetened With wild honey from the bees.
Because one cannot see it, Doesn't mean it isn't there.
It is my secret refuge, From a world so full of care.
Within its walls an atmosphere Of true simplicity,
And we are one, who dwell within,
....My little dog and me.
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