A tranquil breeze blows,
the trees gently sway
and the green water caresses the shore.
A cottage sits on a hill far away
still possessing the scars of days of yore.
The bullfrogs croak and the birds sing their songs
while perched on the branches of a young tree.
Here you could forget all your rights and wrongs
like a bird, soaring high and free.

The luscious forest and bay do surround
the peaceful property like a crown.
The cottage is supported by a mound
that meets the water after it slopes down.

Where the hill meets the water a dock sleeps,
growing beside it, an old willow weeps.