A large Georgian house stands proud
Painted white like a soft summer cloud.
Flowers in full bloom attract butterflies and bees
In a corner an old bench stands under a hanging willow tree.
A place to sit, if you want a rest,
Admire nature presented at its best.
From steps outside my front door,
shingle which came from a pebbled shore
brings memories of distant childhood with bucket and spade,
of old men in deck chairs trying to sunbathe,
knotted handkerchiefs placed on their heads
the sun so hot that their noses have turned lobster red.
Memories of children digging and playing in the sand,
In the distance the calling tune of an ice cream van.
No matter what memories these stones may bring
you're sure to remember this if anything.
The gates are closed but you can still see through,
a white Georgian house that is a most beautiful view.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem