0 Little House of Mine

I love this little house of mine.
Made not of brick or stone or woody pine.
Her windows large and made to see
a world beyond to bring joy to me.

A door left open to welcome all,
yet sturdy -
a barrier to all that may befall.

A garden. A gate. A shed.
They are to the both of us
Small tributes to all the fuss.

Two dogs wander to smell the flowers,
sniff the grass.
There is nothing there they do not pass.
Pay special regard - a bower vine!
Home to birds and butterflies!

And in the warm sun they rest,
Sentinels of all their realm.
Eyes slowly closing, yet quite aware.
There can be no sleeping there!

Made not of brick or stone or woody pine.
I love this little house of mine!

--Joanne C., 67