Stopping By A Forest And Seeing A Treehouse

by AmazingAND

Whose treehouse is this I think I know.

His house is in the village, though:

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his treehouse fill with eyes.

My little dog thinks it is a doghouse,

To stop, and sniff, and play,

Between the forest and the trees,

The smell of the woods linger on.

He gives the tree a single shake,

To collect the sweet and juicy fruits.

The only other sound is the chirping of the birds,

And every footstep on the dry leaves.

The treehouse is beautiful, cozy and nice,

But I have promises to keep

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.