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A Cottage

By Mary E. Adair

White pickets and a gate
            that swung just so...
Lacy kitchen curtains
            tied back with a bow.
A cobblestone walk edged
            with redwood so neat
To welcome the visitor
            in from the street.
The white painted walls
            framed a door of blue
With a swinging brass
            knocker of antique hue.
Rust-brown shingles to crown
            the roof,
And a chimney to tempt
            a reindeer hoof.
Grass cropped quite close
            and lushly green,
Bordered with flowers,
            brightest you've seen.
A lattice trellis with
            Morning Glories climbing,
That opened their blossoms
            with perfect timing.
The window boxes hung,
            and planted with love,
Sported geraniums backed
            by tall Foxglove.
Round the corner you could
            see the kiddie's yard,
Where the swings and slide
            invited "playing hard."
An octagonal dryer rack,
            though out-of-date,
Sometimes whirled swimsuits and towels,
            'til very late.
Hollyhocks stood proudly beside
            the back drive---
Blooms already gone, but green
            stalks still alive---
That is, until the rain
            swept all away---
In the disastrous flood
            that ended today.  

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