A Hut Is Glowing On The Top Of The Hill.
It has red roof and green tiles.
Walls are yellowish grey,
Steps are laid to it.
Gardens surrounds, it is a boon,
That it regularly calls me.
My legs are poor though not old,
Can only smile and give me hope.
“I will take you there”.
But do the residents, know me?
Does not matter. I will go and stay.
I love this hut from down to look at.
They will surely offer me tea.