• harveyvickie

Devon Tea

Down winding lanes with giant hedgerows, we were wending our way on holiday, Glimpses of fields, where golden wheat grows, quickly spotted through passing gateways. Those little roads, were not very wide, should two cars meet along the way, Both drivers would then have to decide, who should now back up and then give way. So Dad backed up, 'cause he was polite, driver waving to us as he passed, By now dear Dad was getting uptight, getting so hot from being harassed. Respite from tall hedgerows as we came, to a village with a pub and store, A row of white cottages all the same, with tiny windows and old oak door. Sat at a table, had Devon cream tea, then it was back down the winding lane, Got round a bend, first glimpse of the sea, our great excitement we could not contain. Over a panorama of rolling hills, our modern car was struggling to climb, Then a farm entrance with various spills like horse manure, straw and white lime. Over one more hill, then we were there, the most beautiful cottage ever seen, The smell of the sea was in the air, overlooked pastures of brown and green. Scent of roses around the front door of the thatched old house where we'd spend, the rest of the summer, just offshore, in this place of peace, a real Godsend. We soon unpacked and went for a stroll, down the footpath that led through the trees, Into a field, where Donkey and foal, ignored us and our 'come on' pleas. Over a stile, where a leaning signpost, pointed the way to Bideford or Bude, Both narrow paths led along the coast, in green fields where cows lazily chewed. We went toward Bude, over another stile, into a lane with a silvery stream, Alongside, brambles for half a mile, bereft of it's black fruit it would seem- -Blackberry pickers had been there before, to make fruity jam and home-made wine, Red Campion, Cow parsley for evermore show their heads and with brambles entwine. We thought it best to make our way back past the Rectory and Old Smithy Inn, Villagers here had this strange old knack, of naming homes after what might have been. As we sat down to tea, full of glee, recounted our adventures to Mum, As she tucked us in, we'd have to see, what great adventures were yet to come.


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