BEHIND THE WHITE FRONT DOOR

Every day I pass it by

This house of solid wood,

I would like to go inside

If only that I could.

It has a large veranda

With wicker rocking chairs,

And beautiful red geraniums

Sit upon the stairs.

Each time that I walk by it

I feel the warmth inside,

It makes me want to run away

From the outside world and hide.

The curtains on the windows

Are made of pure white lace,

I have to stop, and star awhile,

And wish this was my place.

There is no pain or sorrow here

They’re not rich, nor are they poor,

Only love, and solitude

Behind the white front door.

I know it’s hard to understand

No problems, not a trace,

This house is not on any street

It sits on my fireplace.

You see it’s just a doll house

Not real in any way,

But it gives me inner peace

When I see it every day.

And sometimes when I’m feeling down

And have lost my faith within,

I look behind the white front door

Perhaps they’ll let me in.