Nature’s Highlight

Have you ever been to Charden,
Past the farm and down the lane,
And peeped into the little garden
With the swing and weather vane?
There stands a tiny flint-stoned cottage
With its creeper-covered door,
Where fennel, parsley, mint and borage
Cure the ills of sick and poor,
And fallen petals from the bowers,
Blossoms all of candy hue,
Fermented scents of fragrant flowers,
Kiss the breath of evening dew.
Silent breezes fan the bulrush
As the gentle river crawls,
And the tune of distant song thrush
Falls on honeysuckled walls.
Cress glistens in the rippling water,
Crimson lilies float and sway
And bindweed, like a floral halter,
Caresses hawthorn, elder, may,
And as the last gold rays of twilight
Raise the scent upon night airs
You recognise that nature’s highlight
Is the perfume that she wears.

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Flint Cottage