Oh Little House!

Scrunch and save, pennies a day.

             No jobs here, maybe out west.

 Hope to move far away,

Start over, hope for the best.

Land is cheap, in Dakota land.

The papers say it’s the place to head.

 Hope their right, ‘tis our last stand.

 A place for us, a real homestead.

 Here we are, the place is green.

 Much sod to turn, seed to sow.

 Need a house, no lumber seen.

 Ship it in, watch our savings go.

Crop is up, harvesting soon.

Make a bit, to buy some stock.

Cutting at night, it’s a harvest moon.

Have to work ‘round the clock.

Ten years have passed.

Saved some dollars, but no rain now.

The endless wind, blowing fast,

Ground is like rock, hard to plow.

Money is short, crop a bust.

Time to sell,  hate to leave.

Everything filled with dust,

No time to grieve.

Gazing back at our farm

 We feel some guilt.

  It still has its charm,

 That little house we built.

             We pull away, two horses strong.

Hopes, dreams, fading into the west.

We thank you, our home so long.

Oh little house, it’s time to rest.