This Empty Old House

Inside this empty old house,

Floors creak, even where nobody stands,

And you can hear imaginary pins drop;

Though,

This house is not as empty as some might think;

In soft echoes,

I hear the soft voices of children calling me,

Voices from times past,

When the pitter-patter of baby feet walked the grounds,

And in every room were children's sounds,

The smell of candy bubbles from all those baths,

Remind me of the good times that made us laugh;

I can still smell the roasts cooking in the kitchen,

Reminding me that Sundays were our family blessing,

Oh!

I wish I could bring back those times again,

Nevertheless,

There is still love,

love in the memories,

love in every room,

Of this old empty house,

Where I still live.