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.