The Old Oak Staircase

That oak staircase was old, it lead to the room where many memories were shared,
Feet little jumped up and down,
that sound of old oak seemed to giggle,
Under that staircase doll houses made,
little voices could be heard,

She talked about her summer plans, under that old oak staircase,
Papers and ribbons and laces hung from the ceiling of that old oak staircase.

With time the old oak staircase saw and kept stories and new stories were made,
Under that old oak staircase,
Letters of her broken heart and that first love she made, under that old oak staircase.

Today she is stands in white lace she steps down from that old oak staircase,
Her memoirs inscribed on the walls of that old oak staircase,

She bids goodbye to that giggling of that old staircase,
She certainly will come again, to meet her memories under that old oak staircase.