Oh how lovely it is,
To come across a quaint country cottage,
That serves breakfast and tea.
A white arched picket fence at the entrance,
Decorated with pink cherry blossoms.
I walk across the green lawn
and enter a warm 1980s cottage.
The fireplace hearth in the kitchen
Warms the wooden interiors.
Baskets are filled with breads,
Glass jars full of jam,
A steaming kettle brews tea,
Pots and pans hang on hooks,
I settle down to read a book.
Why isn’t anybody around,
I say, “Hello?” and wait for a sound.
A little girl runs across the room
With flour on her messy French braid ponytail,
Followed by an old maid,
Who stops midway noticing my presence.
“How may I help you, today?”
I smile and say, “This is such a beautiful place!”
I get a curt nod and she says,
“We are closed for the day”.
I never had the courage to visit again,
I sometimes pass by the quaint country cottage,
and admire it from far away.
Into Words 