A tree house, a free house,
A secret you and me house,
A high up in the leafy branches
Cozy as can be house.
A street house, a neat house,
Be sure and wipe your feet house
Is not my kind of house at all~
Let's go live in a tree house.
Shel Silverstein
Another day, another dilemma. I wish I could go back to life as a child sometimes, when high-tea parties were held in your best-friend's treehouse, secrets were whispered, fairy families came alive, candles were lit, spooky stories were told. It's where you hid from your brother and his rowdy friends when they played cowboys and Indian's, where you had sleepovers and had massive midnight feasts. I'd love to have my own treehouse again, a little haven to escape into a world of fantasy, or even just to escape with a book and a cup of tea. How magical that would be.
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