I fancy a picture on memory's wall,
All the treasures of childhood when we were so small.
The old fashioned farm house with the porch all around,
And the big country kitchen where the folks gathered 'round.
The big range gleams proudly, as if by magic it brings
the goodies to surprise us, oh such wonderful things!
Then I see maas' rocker, throughit's empty today,
And my vision seems blurred as I wipe tears away.
The creek in the meadow still runs past the bog,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem