There sat a house
upon a hill
wooden, white, and old.
A house of silence
and in it the beauty
of stories never told.
For in this house, a man did love, and a woman lost her way.
A child laughed
a baby wept
a girl cursed and cried and prayed.
The piano chimed
a soprano sang
hands clapped
lips touched
spirits sprang.
In this house, a glow shone bright of tales from long ago
tears of passion
love's embrace
quiet nights
and outlandish show.
The man who gave his heart
to a woman who would forget
raised a child who was pure
and a baby who would fret.
And in this house
a girl met a boy
whom destiny would take
and in the silence of her room
her tiny heart did break.
In this house,
a life was formed
a home,
a haven so safe
to a family that loved with
hearts so safe
that no one could take their place.
And so now,
upon that hill
with lonesome porch
and sloping roof,
there lies a story
of a family
who learned from love and truth.
Silent, but always speaking
tales of tears and
tales of love
a house upon a hill
still stands
a worthy presence
from above.