Combing through the rubbles of my hoary house,I came across some whispers;
In the corner near the inglenook I can hear the wild flowers,
The dankness could be tear drops from my childhood,
The fights and hollers breaking the silence of the wood;
The New Year cakes and all those modest food.
I can feel the waft passing through the once stout door,Whispering a ditty from some bygone shore;
Whispering sunshine, today and before!
Whispers all around I long for more!