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The Black House
The Black House A Childhood Memory
In the black house where memories reside,
Middle childhood days of carefree delight,
Warm sunbeams upon sweet shrubs at our side,
A haven where no worries in sight.
Laughter echoes in the summer air,
Our innocence and joy intertwined,
Down where the sweet shrub blooms so fair
In the heart of youth, pure and refined.
Oh, how I long for those days gone by,
When time moved slowly, and troubles were few,
Golden hours spent under unspoiled blue sky,
In that sacred place where dreams could come true.
So let us cherish those memories dear,
Of the black house, where love was near.
Copyright ©
Sara Kendrick
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