In the quiet whisper of the morning light,Stands a house upon the gentle hill,Where shadows dance with the fading night,And time seems perfectly still.

The walls echo laughter from days gone by,Each room a keeper of stories untold,Windows framing the endless sky,Guarding secrets from the cold.

In the garden where the wildflowers grow,A symphony of colors sways in the breeze,Silent witnesses to the ebb and flow,Of seasons changing with gentle ease.

Within these walls where dreams take flight,Hope finds a place to softly land,A sanctuary through each day and night,A home built by loving hands.