There is a house
On a distant hill,
Where life goes on
While the world stands still,
Where the daffodils dance in a gentle breeze,
And the birds still sing in the morning.
There is a tree
Where the first buds grow,
As time moves on
And life goes slow,
And blossom swirls in a pink spring snow,
And the birds still sing in the morning.
There is a home
Full of love and fear,
Where the days go by
While we pause the year,
Where the kitchen clock chimes the start of school,
And the birds still sing in the morning.
There is a street
Where, behind front doors,
The kettles boil
While the month is paused,
And once a week, strangers unite in applause,
And the birds still sing in the morning.
There is a sky
Full of stars and sun,
Watching over us all
While we pause the run,
And we heal and mend as we miss our friends,
And the birds still sing in the morning.
There is a world
We used to know,
Where the clocks go forward
And the flowers still grow,
And while we save those we’ll never know,
The birds will still sing in the morning.
…………………..
Hazel Gaynor writes historical novels, and the very occasional poem! She lives in Kildare with her family.