My brother likes big palaces
Of marble, shining white;
My sister thinks a cottage, quaint,
Can give the most delight.
But when I’m grown, I’m going to build
A tree house—maybe two—
So that I’ll have a cozy place
To live the whole year through.
For summertime I’ll build my house
High in the maple tree
And watch the sunbeams filter through
My leafy canopy.
In winter, ’neath pine branches strong,
Safe from the snow and ice,
I’ll stay quite warm in my pine home
With friends who think it’s nice.
I guess that walls of glass and stone
Are fine, but as for me,
I’d rather live with birds and squirrels,
Within a friendly tree!