Down an old path deep in the woods, is a place that I loved to be,
Nestled deep under the pines ,where the birds sing a sweet melody.
An old cabin sits just like it did ,as I remembered it in my mind,
I used to play under the trees, while on the porch you would find.
My grandma sitting shelling peas and grandpa smoking his pipe,
I still can picture them in my mind ,oh want a wonderful site.

Oh how I loved that old path, that led to my grandparents  home,
I always felt so at peace, and now I feel so alone.
My grandparents are gone and the house now stands empty and still,
But I always loved that old cabin and I guess I always will.
In my dreams I still walk down that old path, and play under the trees,
And I still can hear the birds singing to me, a sweet melody.

Oh how those's memories linger ,even now that I am grown,
Of that cabin deep in the woods, my grand parent's Carolina home.
Every summer I would visit and I never wanted to leave.
It was a magical place, at least that's what I  believed.
 At least I have my memories ,until they fade away,
Of the that old path in the woods and those good old summer days.

© by Gloria Collins