The Cottage

Fresh bread baking smells sneak from
The wood fired kitchen range.
An old wicker basket piled high with
Freshly chopped logs.
A stone flagged floor covered with bit rugs,
Shiny fire irons laid on grey slate hearth,
And untidy heap of mongrel dogs.
Red apples on gnarled trees in a dry stone
Walled orchard, ducks and hens pecking for scraps,
On the back step, working clogs.
Lazy wasps drone in the creeper
Covered walls and thatch, cats stretch in
The late afternoon sun. Autumn evening fogs.





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