Little House Of Dreams

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My Little House Of Dreams
by Louisa Cooke Don-Carlos

My little house of dreams! It lies
Green roofed, white walled, 'neath Kansas skies.
Its rough stone chimneys in a row,
Its glistening windows all aglow
With light and warmth and kindly cheer
That bide within thru all the year.

My little house of dreams! It stands
Upon a hill o'er meadowlands,
From whence, at dawning, faint and sweet
Comes a lambkin's plaintive bleat,
And meadow larks' shrill pipe, in tune
With all the scents and sounds of June.

My little house of dreams! In spring
About its eaves the redbirds sing,
And gray doves, in the evening cool,
Lave their pink feet, within my pool,
Whose placid, shallow waters lie,
Roseate beneath the westward sky.

My little house of dreams! Who knows
How warm, when fall the winter snows,
How bright its fires, how fair its rooms,
How safe and still 'neath starlit glooms,
My cozy little house of dreams,
All seasons are its best--it seems.

My house of dreams! Where order reigns
Behind its glistening window panes.
Shady its trees, its garden fair
And best of all, my love is there,
With shining eyes and calm, sweet face,
The benediction of the place,
And peace and joy and heaven's light beams
Within my little house of dreams.

Poem © Louisa Cooke Don-Carlos
Image © Richard Horsfield