This Old House
by Cynthia Davis
We Come Here To This Old House
And We Bring To It Our Time
In Exchange For Its Space
We Share Under Its Rafters
Our Laughter, Tears, Hopes And Fears
Many Times We’ve Raised Our Glasses
To Toast The Coming New Years
As Many A Drifter Passes Through Its Door
And Blown Winds Of Change Evermore
Its Old Beams And Shallow Walls Are Strained Once More
Though The Years Have Seen Bright White Paint
Crack And Turn To Grey
So Quickly Time Passes Away
Making Old Times Into Memories
That Start To Fade Away
The Foundation Still Holds Strong
As Snow Covers The Roof
Huddled Under Twinkling Lights
The Night Seems Cold And Long
Expecting Soon Those Who Once Fled
To Return In Joyous Celebration
For As Far As We May Roam
It Is Here We Will Return
To This Old House
New Hampshire Writers