There is a little ole' cabin
Upon a craggy hill
It's old, it's worn, it's tattered
But it sits way up there still
It seems to have unfailing pride
For all the things it’s done
The families that it housed for years
In dark days and yes, in sun
I have to take a picture
And put it in my files
Because this little cabin
Brings sadness but also smiles
I say a little prayer now
That God will hold it dear
It may last till the next wind blows
Or perhaps it’ll last a year
Whatever time it has left though
Folks that are just like me
Will smile upon its vision
As it rests amongst the trees!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem