At the End of the Road
Written by Joanna
Where the river turns a bend,
And the wood comes to an end,
you shall find a winding lane,
veiled through lightly drizzling rain,
blue, red and purple flowers,
Autumn leaves and springtime showers,
Summer tempests, winter snow,
many wonders does this lane know.
And then, a cottage, hidden by brambels,
where the wild wood squirrel seldom rambels,
but warm light smiles from within,
inviting travelers; „Come in, come in!“,
though who lives in this lonely abode,
at the end of a desolate forest road?
Not you, nor I,
Unless you live in that lonely abode,
at the end of a desolate forest road.
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